Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

(Note: if you drop the story, please leave a comment telling me why. I can’t write better stories if I don’t know what to improve on.)

-The Dragon King-

-Arc Start: Yankee in Wonderland-

-Yankee in Wonderland: Ch1-

Arceus looked down upon its world, and was content.

Its chosen one, the Pallet Town boy, had put down yet another rebellion against the world order IT had created. Aqua and Magma, such foolish humans they were to think they could chain legendaries for their own gain, and even more foolish still to think themselves worthy of reshaping the world.

The boy would linger, fail at becoming “champion”, then move on to another region to start anew, where he would defeat those who would challenge ITs order. And the boy would do it again, and again, and again, forever, until all Its work was done. 

The boy would do it perpetually, without rest, frozen in time, and without ever realizing.

Arceus looked down upon its world, and was content. So it closed its eyes, and slept.

But not everything was content.

In the darkness of the Distortion world, something was very much not content. 

The failed usurper, the banished one, the fallen prodigal son, the Renegade Pokémon looked upon his parent’s world and seethed .

-The Dragon King-

The world had gone to shit.

You’d think that winning not just one, not just two, but THREE whole ass world wars, would be enough to buy you some Goddamn peace, but apparently fucking not.

For fucks sake, and they had done so well to, that was the worst part.

No one knew what had sparked it all, or who shot the first bullet. I suppose in the end, it didn’t really matter. War never determined who was right or wrong, only who was left.

And when the missiles fell, and the smoke cleared, the United States was one of the ones still standing.

When the time came, documents, older than most people had been alive, were opened for the first time in years. Equipment and plans drafted by generations gone, were pulled out of storage and hurriedly supplemented with any of the latest technology that would fit the bill.

In those crucial moments, the decades that their forefathers had spent endlessly preparing for a Cold War with the Soviets that never went hot, was what saved the USA.

But to live is not the same as to go unharmed. The men had done their best, and the equipment functioned as well as it could for something designed to fight a war half a century ago.

They had done their job. They just hadn’t done it well enough.

Just because you were still alive right after taking a shot to the chest, didn’t mean you were surviving.

If the bombs which had gotten through hadn’t been enough, the complete collapse of international trade, snow-like irradiated ashfall across the nation, and an ill timed drought meant that within months most civilians were beginning to starve in an unprecedented food crisis. And of course the economy was in shambles too. You try solving any national disaster, let alone a nuclear one, when your national unemployment rate is over 50%, and your currency has lost all its value.

Protests and riots rocked the nation, many turning into violent mobs that had to be forcibly put down by police- which only worked on the occasions the police didn’t join with the rioters.

It was in this situation that General Brash, current president of the United States, decided to make an executive order to cancel the upcoming election and forcibly extend his presidential term by a year. 

This crisis, he said, needed a stable and secure administration to take care of it. And he would do whatever it took to fix his country, even if it meant ignoring the Supreme Court's direct order to stand down.

It had been seven months since then and Marcus was pretty fucking sure that Brash’s decision had been a monumental fuck up beyond all verbal description.

“Enemy armor spotted on the west side of the city!”

“This is Bravo Company, requesting immediate backup, we are being overrun!”

“We are completely out of ammunition, where the Hell is our resupply!?”

“The anti air batteries have been taken out! Hostile bombers are getting through!”

“WE CAN’T HOLD! FALL BACK! FALL BACK! WE’LL STOP THEM AT THE CITY CENTER! WE CAN’T LET THEM REACH THE WHITE HOUSE!”

Sergeant Marcus Cross huddled in the bombed out ruins of a house, taking shelter against the ongoing barrage of artillery while he listened to the frantic screaming over the radio.

Enemies at the gates, pushing into the heart of Washington DC, overrunning the last remnants of the American military. Seven years ago it would have been unimaginable, yet here he was, caught smack dab in the middle of it.

The Union States, the Pacific Confederation, the Independent Republic of Texas, the Free States of America. Each and every secessionist or self proclaimed “real” America that had popped up in the civil war had troops marching towards Brash’s hidey-hole in the White House basement. They all absolutely hated each other, and some of them were even at war, so it really showed just how much Brash pissed them off if they were willing to work together for this.

Artillery pounded, tanks fired, infantry charged, and relics from as far back as the early first Cold War had been dragged out of museum storage to rip each other apart in the skies above the capital- all in the hope of a last ditch defense.

Suddenly the chatter of the radio forcibly cut off. At first, Marcus thought it was enemy jamming, finally putting down their systems for good, but a short version of the Federalist anthem started playing, and then an infuriatingly familiar voice started speaking.

“Attention all remaining units, this is General Brash, Supreme Commander of all Federalist forces, and rightful President of the United States.”

The president, huh? Had he come to make his farewell speech? This ought to be interesting.

“The situation is dire, I won’t lie to you, but we still have a chance for victory. The New Dawn research project has been developing a new weapon, more game changing than anything except the Atom Bomb! It will turn the tide of this war in our favor! Any units near the Jefferson Memorial are to immediately report to the building directly East of it, and assist in the weapon’s deployment. To every man and woman who is currently serving under the Stars and Stripes, if you are not near the Memorial, then this is a direct order. HOLD YOUR GROUND! NOT ONE STEP BACK! FOR DEMOCRACY! FOR THE UNITED STATES!”

“What kind of weapon could turn this disaster around? He’s gotta be smoking something.” Marcus wondered aloud as he leaned back against the wall and looked out over the skyline. With a start he realized that not only could he see the Jefferson Memorial, he was pretty close to it.

“The fuckers must’ve pushed us back farther than I thought…”

“Think back to the revolution! To the founding fathers! To Washington! How he fought valiantly against a seemingly invincible foe, pushed back again and again suffering defeat after defeat. But he never gave up, and against overwhelming odds, delivered a glorious victory at Trenton! Dashing the royal army and snatching victory from the jaws of defeat!”

The presidential address shut off abruptly, and Marcus let out a long sigh. Slowly he pushed himself to his feet.

“This is what I get for swearing undying loyalty to a flag of all things.” He grumbled as he limped towards the ruins of the Jefferson memorial.

-The Dragon King-

“The building East of the Memorial” were pretty vague directions, but when Marcus did eventually find it, he was greeted to the sight of several dozen Federalist soldiers hastily putting up barricades and defenses.

Across all of them there were maybe four genuine military personnel, the rest were all civilian militia. But one person stood out above all others. An old man, completely bald, with a set of nasty scars that covered the right side of his face and marked over a dull gray eye.

“President Brash!” Marcus saluted. “Sergeant Marcus Cross, reporting for duty.”

“At ease, soldier. We’re at war, there’s no time for formalities.” The general waved him off with a gruff voice. “Where’s the rest of your squad?”

“All dead, sir.” Marcus responded numbly.

Brash snarled, anger burning in his eyes. “These damn traitors! I’ll make them pay for all of this! I’ll have every last one rounded up and shot! Aside from me, you’re the highest ranking man here, now. Follow me. The rest of you hold the ground floor, the Union depends on it!” He turned and shouted to the others who eagerly saluted and returned to prepping defenses with even greater vigor than before.

The President marched into the building, and Marcus followed, but as he passed by through the entrance he caught a glimpse of his reflection. It was in a glass shard that remained stubbornly stuck to a window frame, even though the rest of the glass had been blown away.

To put it bluntly, he looked like crap.

Months of warfare had carved deep bags under his eyes, and weeks without a chance to make camp, let alone take a proper shower, had turned his dark dirty blond hair into a complete mess that was only barely being contained by his helmet.

His officer uniform was torn and tattered, and he had patches of uneven stubble growing all along the lower part of his face. His blue eyes, though he tried to look away before he could stare too long, seemed more lifeless each time he saw them.

“What are you waiting on, Sergeant? A cookie? Get down here!”

The two descended the stairs in a tense silence, each step taking them deeper below the surface.

“I can practically feel your eyes burning a hole in the back of my head, boy.” Brash scoffed. “You got a problem?”

“No sir.”

“Bullshit. At least have the fucking respect to say what you really think, rather than lying right to my damn face.”

Marcus winced. “Look, is it really that surprising that I’m not a fan? Considering you're the one who got us all into this mess?”

“Not really. I don’t have many supporters nowadays, most of them have jumped ship to The Free States, or The Union State, or The United Commonwealth, or any of the other terroristic secessionists with self aggrandizing names.” The President growled, and Marcus could hear his teeth grinding as he listed those names. “What about you, Cross? If you hate my guts, why haven’t you left?”

“I swore an oath. I like to think that means something.”

“Ha! You’re the sentimental type, there’s your first mistake.” Brash laughed and looked over his shoulder at Marcus with a sneer. “Listen well, boy. If there’s anything this war has taught me again and again, it’s that sentiments and nice thoughts don’t do Jack shit when up against a real problem. The next time you want something, or need something done, stand up and take it for yourself!”

Something lurched inside Marcus’s heart, and he had to physically hold himself back from striking his commander in chief.

“Why? Because that’s worked out so well for you?” 

“You don’t get it boy, but if you live long enough you will. The reason I’m in this mess is because I’m just like you. Sentimental.” Brash sighed as he looked away, a pained longing in his eye. “Because I swore an oath, and did everything I could to uphold it, even long after I damn well should have just quit.”

The rest of the walk was made in complete silence.

-The Dragon King-

The first thing Marcus noticed when he entered the underground lab was the heat. Multiple military grade cooling units were built all along the walls, but the room was still boiling.

An old man in a lab coat was hunched over a large terminal of some sorts- the thing looked practically prehistoric, like he’d ripped the control panels out of an old ICBM launch silo and wired them together. The two TV screens he’d somehow hooked up to it just made all the knobs, levers, and baubles look all that more ancient.

But the real show stealer was the thing sitting at the back of the room, bigger than a school buss, and half built into the wall.

It was a machine of some sort. A large black metallic cube with dozens of wires and pipes hooked up to it. The middle of the cube was hollow, you could see all the way through to the wiring on the other side, a set of three metallic rings spun around in the open center of the device- each in different directions. Occasionally electricity would spark between the rings, making loud cracks that would briefly drown out the constant humm of the device’s engine.

Brash loudly cleared his throat and the scientist perked his head up.

“Doctor, this is Sergeant Cross, he’ll be acting as your personal last line of defense. Sergeant Cross, this is Doctor Vernov, the man you’re now in charge of keeping alive. He’s one of the last good scientists we have, and the head of the New Dawn research project.” The president crossed his arms and grinned. “It’s gonna change the fucking world.”

“Ah. More military man.” Vernov spoke in a very heavy and aggressive accent that Marcus had never heard before. It was almost like a strange mix of slavic and asian chiseled every work he spoke into a sharp edge.

“Please make self at home, not like I can say no to man with gun.” The balding scientist looked at Marcus with disdain and turned back to his consol. “Only one rule. No touch button, no touch device, no touch anything unless you want die.” He pointed at the strange cube machine. “That kills you very dead, very fast. Is very good at it!”

“What is it?” Marcus asked in a mix of awe and concern.

“Weapon is, how you say, complicated. Mechanics not explain easy”

“It erases matter from existence.” Brash grinned.

Doctor Vernov winced painfully, as if he had been physically struck. “Not exactly, but close enough understanding for use. Device erases from our dimension. Kicks out. Sends away into the nothing between. Absolute vacuum there will rip apart at atomic level.”

“Same damn thing. Stop trying to confuse people.” Brash rolled his good eye. “It’ll make these limp dick traitors regret ever being born!” He turned to markus. “I’m going to go hold the stairs, get a few final shots at these motherfuckers. You watch the scientist.” He poked Marcus in the chest. “His mind may be off the deep end, but I don’t want to risk him getting cold feet.”

“Sir, yes sir.” Marcus saluted.

“Any final words for your commander in chief?”

“With all due respect, sir, go fuck yourself.”

“Ha!” Brash grinned ferally as he turned and walked off. “Don’t worry soldier, I’ll see you in Hell.”

Marcus watched the battle torn General go with mixed feeling, but forced himself to shake his head and turn his attention to the scientist.

“What’s so game changing about this thingama-doohicky you made? It doesn’t seem all that much different than a normal bomb in terms of military application. They’re both pretty good at making things not exist.”

“Very different! And not ‘Doohickey’ !” Vernov scoffed, offended. “Reaction is cascadable across atomic bonds. Requires only energy for reaction start, no expensive and unstable nuclear fuel to refine and store. Precise, also. Depending on energy input to initial reaction, can adjust radius down by inches. All way from size of apple to size of nation.”

“That sounds… interesting.” Marcus said, somewhat uncomfortable about the idea of a bomb capable of being even bigger than a nuclear weapon. “How do we launch it? We’ve completely lost air superiority over the city, what’s to stop them from just shooting it down?”

“Launch? Ha! Is no launch.”

“Wha-?”

“Was originally to be orbital beam weapon. Put in satellite, shoot from sky. Had to make… sacrifices to design. You understand, yes?”

“Wait-wait-wait, back up. You’re not launching it?”

“No. Use here.”

“We couldn’t hold the city so you’re just going to nuke it?!” Marcus shouted, completely horrified.

“Not nuclear, too small. General clear, wants traitors pay. Nuclear barrage initial plan, only few left but would work. Old cabinet horrified, scrambled launch codes. Shot for treason, but did job well, can’t unscramble. This much bigger. Will do job of entire pre-war nuclear stockpile.”

“You can’t seriously do this! This is insane!”

“Yes! Exactly! Insane! You get it!” Vernov grinned at him, a sadness hidden beneath his features. “Technology too dangerous to let live. Could wipe planet if developed further. Did not realize mistake until too late, but by then Brash already had basic schematic. Now is only chance! Destroy device! Destroy all research! Destroy all evidence of existing! Wipe entire seaboard! Must understand, yes?”

“We’ll all die too, Dipshit! Or did you somehow miss that part!?”

“Is my responsibility for making it in first place. Must destroy it. Can NEVER let fall in hands of warlords outside. Will undo my mistake.”

“No. Not while it’s under my fucking city you won’t.” Marcus grabbed the old man’s arm and forcibly pulled him away from the control panel. “Turn it off. NOW!”

“And President told you to stop me from getting the ‘cold feet’. It is, how English say, ironic.” Vernov laughed and pulled his arm away. “I refuse to give up my chance!”

Vernov shoved Marcus away and turned back towards his device.

“My mistake! My responsibility is to fix! Would have to shoot me to make stop.”

Somehow it was a complete shock to the scientist when Marcus, the battle hardened veteran, who had been fighting a brutal civil war for the past half year, and who he’d just told to shoot him, leveled his rifle and well, you know…

BANG

Vernov’s body fell on the suddenly very bloody control panel, with a clean hole through his head.

Marcus grabbed him and pulled him off, letting the corpse flop to the floor unceremoniously. But with the doctor gone, he was left with a control panel that he had absolutely zero idea how to operate.

Nothing was labeled, nothing was to code, and the screens’ only purpose seemed to be showing the devices readings such as temperature and power consumption.

He hesitated for a moment before wildly doing whatever looked like it might help. Any knobs that were up he turned down, every switch that was on he flipped off, and he blindly pressed every button on the board multiple times in hopes one of them might be an emergency off switch.

The device stopped humming, which was good, but then it started to make a very loud whining noise that continued to get louder and louder, which was not good.

Luckily Marcus was a military man, who knew how to solve things the military way. In this case that meant a consistent spray of bullet fire from left to right, across the control panel, completely ruining the thing and causing all the lights to spark and flicker off.

But the machine didn’t stop. Instead the whining grew even louder, and the rings continued to spin faster and faster. Something was forming at the very center of them, at the point they were all spinning around, a hazy mass of blackness that was slowly expanding.

Marcus then, in that half second, made an ill thought out choice that would affect the lives of countless billions.

He raised his gun, flipped the safety from semi to fully automatic, and emptied his entire magazine into the open core of the machine that was currently ripping a hole in reality.

There was a thunderous CRASH as the largest of the rings shattered, ripping itself apart under the strain of its own velocity, and was launched down into the body of the device like impromptu railgun shot.

The black mass seemed to destabilize, rippling like water, and the outer parts of it started evaporating into a dark fog.

“Holy Shit!” Marccus’ eyes widened in awe. He’d done it! He’d saved the city! 

No. 

He’d saved AMERICA!

…

Then it exploded.

-The Dragon King-

Thousands of people watched in terror as a great white ball expanded from the bombed out ruins of Washington DC. It enveloped every last soul that had been fighting valiantly inside the city, and disappeared in a bright flash, leaving a massive hole in place of the old capital, 60 miles across, and 60 miles deep at its center.

Everything there, every building, every soldier, all gone. Erased from this existence, and thrown out into the unforgiving nothingness of the veil beyond our reality.

…

Except, the space beyond wasn’t quite as “empty” as Scientist Vernov had theorized. 

Countless stories could be told of things and people from America’s final moments being scattered like buckshot across the multiverse.

The statue of Abraham Lincoln landing in a feudal fantasy world and being mistaken as a religious icon. A lone Texas ranger waking up in a nuclear wasteland and trying to make a living as a courier. A squadron of the Union State’s best tank force getting swept up in the summoning of a Hero to fight against a demon lord. A commander of the Pacific Confederation finding herself in the year 40,000 and falling to Chaos. Civilian militias appearing on massive ring in space to find themselves assaulted by aliens. An F35 fighter jet crash landing back in time in an alternate WW2 and inspiring the Germans to go looking for other such “ancient technology”. Federalist propaganda posters filtering down from the sky in some magical “new world”, seen as messages from the gods by locals, and giving a poor human-turned-lich a panic attack.

Or even how General Brash himself landed in a world he could only describe as “the deepest bowels of Hell’s inferno”. Where strange four legged demons frolicked around in colors so bright it hurt his eyes. Where all the food was so sugary it burnt his tongue. Where the laws of reality bent to the whims of the insane. And where a foul purple abomination took sick demented pleasure in torturing him- tying him down to a chair and forcing him to learn about the “magic of friendship”.

But this is not the story of any of them. Not even about General Brash or the dead body of Doctor Vernov which fell from the sky and landed at the feet of an aspiring necromancer.

No. This is the story about the absolute dumbass who thought shooting the doomsday device was a good idea.

“AHHHHHHH!” Marcus screamed as he flipped through the air, plummeting into a seemingly endless abyss. His rifle slipped from his fingers and was flung away as he spun uncontrollably through the darkness, wind howling as it whistled past his ears.

“Device erases from our dimension. Kicks out. Sends away into the nothing between. Absolute vacuum there will rip apart at atomic level.”

Vernov’s heavy accent echoed in his head as gravity seemed to increase in strength and pull at him from every direction.

“No! Fuck! Shit!” Marcus cursed as he flailed his arms, desperately trying to grab ahold of anything. But nothing was there to grab, just an endless black that stretched on to eternity.

There was absolutely nothing.

…

And then, suddenly, there was something.

A pair of deep blood red eyes opened in the abyss and stared down at him, each the size of a car.

Visions flashed in Marcus’ mind.

Eternal darkness spilling out of a tear in reality. A blond woman with black teardrops in her hair, crumpled on the ground. Cities burning. An army on the march. An uprising. A rogue state. Him standing before a bloodthirsty crowd, thousands of people cheering as a crown was lowered upon his head.

And in the back of his mind, a chilling voice made of rusted metal and molten brimstone whispered to him.

“So much regret, so much anger, the perfect forge for the darkest kind of ambition. Your soul is already stained with the blood of so many, and your people have created horrors unthinkable to my father’s realm. I can grant you precious few gifts without alerting my creator, but I suspect you will need none. Do not disappoint me, young Tyrant.”

A force pressed against his chest, searing cold and boiling hot at the same time, it was so intense that it caused Marcus to scream and pass out for a moment before the pain dragged him back into consciousness. 

The voice cackled maniacally as it faded from his ear, with all the cruel pride of a cat that had finally caught the mouse. Then suddenly the darkness disappeared, replaced with a blue sky full of glittering stars, and he was crashing through brush and leaves as he skid across the ground, coming to an abrupt stop as he slammed into the trunk of a tree.

He groaned as gravity peeled him off the tree bark and dropped him face first to the wet and muddy ground.

“Mmmhhgph.” Said the heroic survivor, causing an air bubble to pop up from the mud.

His entrance had not been a quiet one, however, and a nearby bush rustled as something came to investigate.

“Bag?”

“Mllghmph.” The Hero said a second time, displaying his mastery of language.

“Bag!”

With great effort Marcus peeled his face up from the mud and looked at where the sound had come from. 

Now it may have been literal years since he last played any of the games, much less watched the TV show but, just like any kid who grew up during the early 2000s, Marcus Cross could recognize a Pokemon when he saw one.

”A Bagon?” 

“BAG!” The small, blue, and vaguely T-rex looking Dragon type hopped back and growled at him, showing off a mouth full of sharp teeth.

“Ah…” The soldier grunted as he sat up and propped himself up against the tree. “I’m having a near death hallucination. Either from blood loss or whatever that machine was. Great.”

He sighed and took a look around. He was in a beautifully vibrant forest, with the full moon hanging in the starry sky above, its light shining through the leaves like intangible threads of silver.

It was beautiful.

“But why’d my brain have to make it muddy? I hate mud.” He winced as a rib flared in pain after a too big breath. “Fuck- er, uh, I mean fudge ?”

Marcus craned his neck to look around. “Isn’t Jesus supposed to come out about now? I know I’ve got some shit I need to answer for.” 

Jesus of Nazareth, fortunately or unfortunately, did not appear. But the Bagon Marcus had almost landed on did. It marched out of the bushes with its head held high, offended that it was being ignored.

“Bagon!”

“Hey I’m kinda busy right now, so fuck off and let me die in peace.” 

“Baaa!”

“Get! Shoo!” Marcus kicked at it. “I’m waiting for Jesus to come and smite me.” He paused in thought for a second. “Well, it better be Jesus. I don’t care what the Hindus say, I’m not going to let myself get reincarnated as a fucking cow or some shit.”

“Bagon!”

“And I’m also not spending the last moments of my life dealing with an annoying hallucination.” He frowned. “What the fuck are you even supposed to be, anyway? The manifestation of how much I hated my sister's demon Chihuahua, when we were kids?”

“BAG!”

“Yeah, that’s right, I called you a Chihuahua. You look like a Chihuahua. You act like a Chihuahua. You’re a tiny rodent that’s 50% Anger and 50% Shake, you fit the description perfectly.”

“BAG! ON!” The small Dragon screamed in frustration, as it jumped and stomped its legs with each exclamation. It didn’t know what that word ment, but it clearly recognized an insult.

“Aww, look, the Chihuahua’s mad. What are you gonna do about it, Chihuahua? Oh wait, that’s right, nothing , because you’re a figment of my imagination! Now piss off, and let me have some peace for the first time in seven years.” Marcus yawned and closed his eyes as he slumped back against the tree.

“BAGON!” The Pokemon stomped up to him and Marcus kicked the thing in the head, knocking it away and landing with a splat in the mud. 

“BAGON! BAGON! BAG! ON! RAAAAH!” The Dragon raged as it pulled itself to its feet. It turned back to face Marcus, and snarled and pawed at the ground with its clawed feet, before lowering its head, bracing itself, and then launching forward.

Marcus cracked an eye open just in time to see an irate blue lizard hurling towards his face.

Bagon used Headbutt.

It was Super Effective!

Marcus Fainted.

-Chapter End-

This is not going on my main schedule. I refuse. But “Borne of Caution” is soooo good that it kicks my brain gears into motion every time I read it, and fills my head with thought bunnies that won’t go away. Then I tried Palworld and now it’s just a lost cause.

This is my avenue to get those intrusive story thoughts about Pokemon out of my head and onto a page. It’s not going on my story rotation schedule, so chapters will be infrequent, and mostly whenever the need to write grips me.

AKA: Usually whenever a new chapter of “Borne of Caution” comes out. It’s just so good man!

*Sips Hot Chocolate*

If you’re a member of the Pokemans community (which I have had zero interaction ever with) and not someone who wandered here from my other fics, can I suggest joining the Discord?

You can yell at me to make more of this, and reignite the argument if Pokemon are furries or not.

https://discord.gg/YmWYB9uupx

*Sips Hot Chocolate*

Thank you to my supporters who support me and my crippling Hot Chocolate addiction.

The members of the Shadow Government, who funnel taxpayer funds directly into my corrupt wallet! Long may they reign!

MidnightHydro! (The Mighty!), Eternal Guard (The Emboldened!), Helios (The Honored!), thegodfather (The Great!), 0RB! (The 0pulant!), Rom Hack (The Robotic Housekeeper!), and Indyk (The Insatiable Imperial!)

The Champions! Leading the fight!

Nvsoulsborne, ShelDrake, Tom Tat, Gage Donaldson, The Brandonator, Nuckles222, wolfwind01010, Thrawn,  TheButterButter, Twin the Commissar, PrisonDIctator, and Adante!

The Dollar Army! Marching with honor and glory!

Alex Estrugo, Blue_port, Eledu, Nyte, Elenium935, Jac, Jaydon Adams, jordan arrow, Max Buckner, phil, Quan Perryman, WiseKitsune, Spam2Spam, Gavin, GrimDeathKnight, Hamza Abdallah, Indie, Aswin Suthan, SonicDJM, EngineerLife24, drwinter169, Prince of Ruin, SILENGE, Lord_of_Pola, LukasH, Savage Scorpion, Anima, Summers Mori, and my boy Slowchoke

Chapter Text

Never liked the Fairy type. I’m not type-ist or anything, just don’t like ‘em.

Old fashioned me preferred it back when the typings made sense.

*Sips Hot Chocolate*

But now that I’m doing a Dragon-centric story, I get to have a reason to dislike them.

But suddenly, if I’m doing a grounded Pokemon story, I have to find a reason for Fairies to be super effective against Dragon types.

Then I had an idea. Why not take the concept behind the type, and just go all the way with it?

-The Dragon King-

-Yankee in Wonderland: Ch2-

Marcus stared up at the sterile white metal plates that made up the roof of the room he’d been imprisoned in.

“Patient was found knocked out in the middle of the forest with no ID or belongings on him, and was admitted into the Human recovery ward with various minor injuries.” A young and perky nurse with bright pink hair said out loud as she tapped things into the tablet she was holding. “Current hypothesis is that he was attacked or kidnapped by a wild Pokémon.”

“Patient has a name you know.” Marcus mused out loud, even though he knew it didn’t matter. “Patient has told you his name several times.”

“Patient has blond hair, blue eyes, and an oval shaped head.”

“Oval? My head’s not an oval, I definitely have a jawline.” Marcus cut in, slightly offended. “It’s the only reason my ex ever dated me.”

“Patient height is 5 feet and 11 inches tall.”

“11 and a half , really if you’re going to round it, round it up to 6 feet. You know, a nice whole number, for ease of cataloging.”

“Patient may have self esteem issues.”

“I do not.”

“Patient is fit but underweight for his height.”

“Living off field rations will do that to you, especially when you’re expected to ration the rations.”

“Patient has recounted wild stories with total confidence, regardless of the fact they make no logical sense. Potential sign of mental tampering, theorized Ghost or Psychic influence. Considering the name the patient has given, and believes is theirs, does not show up in any database, the idea of mental tampering has significant weight.”

“What do you mean ‘believes’? It is my name.”

“Patent has numerous scars, further reinforcing the theory of a Pokémon attack. Some of them are weeks if not months old, suggesting prolonged trauma. Combined with how intricate the mental tampering seems to have been, the patient might have been held hostage for a long time.”

“The scars add to my roguish charm.”

“No signs of drug or alcohol traces in the patient's blood test.”

“No by choice, I assure you. Alcohol sounds like the best way to process everything that’s happened recently.”

Nurse Joy, THE Nurse Joy from the anime and video games, looked up from her tablet and gave Marcus a deadpan stare.

“Patient is uncooperative, and an asshole.”

“Patient might be more cooperative if Patient was called Patient’s name.”

“Current best hypothesis is that the Patent was attacked by a feral Ghost pokemon, and was dragged out into the woods where he was attacked and had his memories altered to remember a fake war as a form of long term mental torture. I’m choosing to follow the recommended protocol for this sort of situation and keep him here for a month to see if his memory condition improves, but beyond tending to his physical injuries, there's not much more we can do without the aid of a high end psychic. End entry.” Nurse Joy’s tablet turned off and she handed it to the big pink blob sitting behind her. “Would you be a dear and take this to my desk for me.”

“Chansey!” The Pokemon saluted and waddled out of the room.

She then sighed and turned to Marcus.

“I’m sorry for being rude, I’ve had a bad day, and just because you’re riling me up that doesn;t make it right. I know this must be hard, trust me, I understand. But in cases like these, where a Pokemon might have messed with your head, I legally can’t call you by any names or reference to any events that don’t have real world verification. Doing so runs the risk of permanently damaging your mental state.” Nurse Joy smiled at him apologetically. “But I promise we’re going to do everything we can to get you back up on your feet.”

“Nah, I’m sorry, Miss. I’m just pissed at my current situation and am taking it out on you.” Marcus sighed and flopped back down on the medical bed with a sigh. “You don’t deserve it.”

“Oh honey, you have every right to be angry about what happened to you, you don’t need to apologize to me. Compared to some of the pokemon I have to deal with, you’ve been practically a saint.” She patted him on the head, in a way that would have been condescending if she wasn’t so sincerely emotional. “We’ll help you put your life back together the best we can so you can figure out what you want to do with your future.”

“I already know what I want to do. It’s blatantly obvious.” He gestured out the window of his hospital room, to the world beyond. Well, it was a really shit view, that was just the brick wall of the building next door, but still! There was a world beyond! “I’m gonna become a Pokemon trainer!”

“So you’ve told me.” Nurse Joy’s smile became just a tiny bit strained, and the head patting became less genuine. “Just know that the world is a wide place and there are countless possibilities. Don't shoohorn yourself into one goal, and don’t give up hope we can’t get your old memories back.”

She stood up and walked towards the door with a wave. “I’ll knock and tell you when Dinner’s ready. You’re free to walk around town and explore in the meanwhile, to see if it will jog your memories.”

Mark watched her go with a sigh and draped an arm over his eyes.

“What a mess.”

It wasn’t every day that a crazy sci-fi doomsday device throws you into another reality, and not just any reality, but the one from your favorite games as a kid. Talk about crazy. If he hadn’t literally been hit over the head with a real life Pokemon, he wouldn’t believe it.

He still kinda couldn’t believe it, honestly.

Maybe the nurses were right, and something did fuck with his brain.

No. He needed to kill that train of thought before it could go any further! What he went through was REAL! He knew it was real, he had the scars from it, and the battle knowledge to prove it.

And more than that! He had English! Whatever the fuck people around here were speaking, it wasn’t English. That is a whole language, both written and spoken, which had caused Nurse Joy to look at him crazy when he first opened his mouth.

Actually, how could he understand the people here anyway? They weren’t speaking English, but he still somehow knew how to converse with them in the local language. Just casually having the entire native language deposited into your head when you drop into a new reality, just seemed too convenient to be normal. Did something happen to him?

He tried to think back. He went underground, shot the machine, there was a blast of white, then he was falling into black, and black and black and blackblackakcakcakccccccc…

His eyes glazed over for a brief moment before snapping back into focus.

What was he thinking about? 

He lost his train of thought there for a moment.

Whatever, it probably wasn’t that important anyway.

A knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts.

“Excuse me, Mister?” Nurse Joy called. “Your friend is here to visit you.”

“Oh, not this idiot.” Marcus grumbed under his breath and looked around the completely empty room for some excuse. “Don’t send him in! I’m busy with, uh… various important things.”

But it was too late, the door was already opening, and in walked a boy. He was short, maybe under five feet tall. He had strawberry blond hair that dropped just past his shoulders, pale white skin, and big purple (yes purple) eyes. 

He wore a puffy white hoody, baby blue pants, and a pair of white running shoes with light blue laces.

Normal people might have described him as “cute” or “dainty”.

Marcus, who had survived Army boot camp, would describe him as thin, underweight, and horribly out of shape.

This was Casey Ranger, the person who, to Marcus’ eternal humiliation, had been the one to find him bleeding out in the woods and drag him to the Pokemon Center.

“Hey Mark-”

“Only my friends are allowed to call me Mark.”

“Well it’s a good thing we’re friends!” Casey chirped.

“That’s not- Ughh.” Mark groaned in exasperation. “Why are you here?”

“You were really banged up, and I was really worried you might not make it! I wanted to come by to check that you’re doing better.”

“Ah.” Marcus said blandly as it clicked in his head. This is one of those ‘best friend moments’ where the plot gives you a companion or a rival before your journey.

Yeah. No thanks.

“As much as I would love to stay and chat, I‘m afraid that Nurse Joy ordered me to go out and see the city.” He hoisted himself off the bed and waved a hand vaguely in the air. “Go out, see the sights, smell the roses, and hear the cacophony of noise that is the city. Because it might help me remember some things.”

“Oh! That’s a great idea! Can I-”

“Nope.” Mark cut him off, already closing the door. “Goodbye.”

-The Dragon King-

Apparently Pokemon Centers kept spare clothes around specifically to lend out to trainers after Pokemon attacks. This is because Pokemon moves were capable of breaking boulders, shooting acid that ate through metal, or burning an entire forest down, and could ruin even the sturdiest of outfits with a glancing blow.

(And typically, if you were brought in after a wild Pokemon Attack, you had been hit with a lot more than a glancing blow.)

Also, fun fact from Nurse Joy, Ghost type attacks on people were uncommon but frequent enough that there was a ranking system. What they thought happened to him, where he had been hypothetically kidnapped, physically tortured for months on end, and had his memories fucked with to the point he couldn’t remember his past and was an entierly different person, was a level 4.

The scale went up to level 5. 

On a totally unrelated note, he wasn’t going to be trying to catch a Ghost type anytime soon.

Unfortunately free clothes meant really cheap clothes. So here he was, walking down the street in khaki shorts that felt like they were made of cardboard, and a generic t-shirt that somehow gave him with more itches than the Dust Bowl had given him. And that had been a week-long fighting retreat through the Nevada desert, in the middle of summer, with a single change of clothes, and zero showers!

But enough about the downsides of his situation! He was in the Pokemon world! (Somehow)

There were Pokemon! They were around! Just existing and doing things! There went a girl with a Pikachu laughing on her shoulder! There was a trainer having her Rapidash practice fire spin in the park! Over there was a Delibird helping sell ice cream!

He saw two guys on the TV duking it out with a Charizard and a Nidoking! It was AWESOME! Like Holy Shit!

He had landed in the heart of Eternia city, in the middle of his favorite region, Sinnoh, and baby was he fucking sold!

Marcus couldn’t help the giant grin on his face as he walked around and just took in the world around him.

It was everything he’d ever imagined it being.

Or at least, it would be as soon as he cleared up one tiny issue.

“Okay, what’s going on here?” He asked as he turned around and confronted his stalker. “Is privacy illegal now?”

“Nonono! Nothing like that!” Casey fidgeted, nervous at having been confronted. “Nurse Joy asked me to keep an eye on you in case you fainted or your injuries acted up.”

“Of course she did.” Mark rolled his eyes. “How old are you, even, anyway? You’re acting like a lost puppy.”

“Oh! Don’t worry, Mark! I’m 18, about to turn 19 in a week!” Casey’s face lit up. “Hey! My parents are holding a party! Why don’t you come?”

“I refuse to attend any party that doesn’t have alcohol.” The veteran gumbeled

“I wish I could have alcohol, my parents say they won’t let me try any until I’m at least 30. Does it taste good?”

“The best made ones taste like shit and burn your throat the whole way down.”

“Oh gosh, that sounds horrible! I understand why my parents won’t have any. Why do you drink it if it’s so bad?”

“I dunno, I’ll tell you when I find out.” Mark shrugged and walked off.

“H-Hey!” Casey yelped and chased after him. “Wait up!”

Marcus sighed and turned around again. “Okay, I’m going to be blunt since you can’t seem to pick up on cues. Why are you following me around? It is creepy.”

“O-Oh, uhm.” Casey fidgeted awkwardly. “W-Well I’ve always wanted to be a trainer, but I was born sickly, and my parents haven't ever let me leave the city. I-I’m almost 19, and still haven't started my adventure! The trainer school says the prime years to start your journey is between the ages of 14 to 16!”

“That sounds like a stupid idea.”

“Most people say it’s too late when you hit 18! And not only am I starting late, I’m still sickly. I don’t have a lot of stamina, have a poor immune system, and my asthma acts up all the time.  But you- you still have so much confidence about starting a journey, even though you’re like, really old looking !”

“Gee, what a compliment.” Mark grunted. “I personally think 27 is pretty young.”

“You’re 27 !?” Casey’s eyes bulged. “I thought you were like 23! But you’re old !”

“I don’t know if that’s supposed to be a compliment or an insult. Either way I’m kind of offended.”

“So hearing you being so determined to be a Pokemon trainer, just really inspired me!”

Marcus let out a long drawn out sigh.

Casey just stared up at him with a wide smile.

“Look, kid-”

“I’m not a kid.”

“-I don’t give a shit.” Mark held up a hand to silence him. “I’m the last person you should be looking to for advice, or as some kind of role model. You’re not just barking up the wrong tree, you might as well be on the wrong side of the Mississippi river.”

…

“What’s a Missapippi?”

-The Dragon King-

Apparently there were “qualifications” to getting a Trainer license. You either need to A: personally have a person of respected stature, such as an official region Pokemon Professor or Gym trainer, sign a legal document as a guarantor, saying you were qualified. Or B: you needed to pass trainer school.

Yeah, you know that stupid school section they try to get you to do at the beginning of some of the games? The one where the NPCs will blabber about basic type matchups and tell you what berries do, even though you could just read the item descriptions? That was an actual important part of the world.

It was Bullshit!

I mean, it kind of wasn’t, because Marcus himself would set up something similar if he was in charge of the licensing. But it was bullshit because he had to take a class for literal 10 year olds instead of running out and getting started on his childhood fantasy!

Marcus readjusted the books under his arm as he made his way down a far too colorful hallway. The books were ragged, taped together, and smelled bad, but the Trainer School gave them out to students for free every year. You only had to pay for them if you broke them, or failed to return them at the end of the year.

Which was useful, because Mark was flat broke.

“Well, well, well, look what the Shtarly plucked from the guttersh and dropped on the ground.”

The absolute snottiest and brattiest voice Marcus had ever head caused him to physically stop in his tracks. It was the sort of cartoonishly stereotypical voices you could only find on TV.

“You look like you’re twenty yearsh old.”

“I’m not! I’m only 18!”

“Ha! 18? I was being sharcashtic, have you really failed the classh that many timesh? What an absolute losher!”

Marcus followed the sounds of the voice, and when he peaked around a corner of the Hallway, he found Casey backed up against a wall. But no one else was nearby?

“What a misherable creatsher you are.”

The voice spoke again and Marcus looked down to see a kid. Like, an actual child. He couldn’t be more than 11. The kid was chubby, mildly overweight, with big buck teeth, and the largest pair of glasses he’d ever seen.

And he seemed to be… bullying someone almost a third of his height taller than him?

“I’m sorry, what’s going on here?”

The two turned to him and the small child chortled in amusement. “Well, if it ishint another kosher failure nerd.”

“I’m Matthshew Birtsh. My great uncle is the famoush professhor Birtsh. And I scored the highesht on the entranshe exam, which meansh I’m favored to passh thish year, and I did it while being the youngesht in our classh.”

Matthew Birtch (“Mathshew Birtsh”) crossed his arms smugly and looked up at Mark with a “whatcha gonna do about it” face, as if what he had just said was impressive or something.

Was… was this a thing? Young kids who managed to qualify earlier than other people, like Ash did, looked down on and made fun of older people who were becoming trainers later than them?

Mark looked at Casey who seemed to not see anything out of the norm here.

“What? Are you shpeachlesh before me? Don’t worry, mosht are! Before the ashtounding name of Birtsh, you-”

“Hey, kid.” Mark nodded as Casey. “You said you looked up to me as some kinda inspiration before? I stick with what I said before, it’s a terrible idea, but let me at least show you how to deal with this problem.”

Marcus glanced around, double checking for cameras or any prying eyes.

Then he reared back and punched the little shit right in the fucking face.

-The Dragon King-

A slight oversight on the plan “smack the child” was that Casey was now following him around and looking at him like he was some sort of mystic sage.

Marcus was a bit uncomfortable with being a role model to anyone, considering how much of a fuck up his life had been, so he’d mostly been answering any big questions with  quotes from his dad, and broad “interpret it how you want to” kind of responses.

But Casey’s parents were apparently loaded with cash, and Casey was willing to use a bit of his generous allowance to buy Marcus lunch at the school, so he didn’t have to run back to the Pokemon Center for a free meal. So, you know, it balanced out.

(The bribes were working)

At least the brat from the first day had been too prideful to taddle to the teachers. He confronted Marcus the next day and told him that he would make him regret being born. “Onesh I get my shtarter!”

On another note.

A major unforeseen upside to being in a game/anime world is that you get game/anime designed people.

“Alright class, welcome to the second half of your education. This is where we start going over the more complex parts of being a trainer, and really see if you're ready to go on your journey!”

The trainer school teacher, the almost stereotypically named Miss Apple, blew every single crusty dusty old ass female teacher from Mark’s old world out of the water. She was an absolute fucking bombshell MILF, who had porportions the likes of which you’d only see in anime, and might as well be wearing the “mommy teacher” kink like a badge of honor.

And she was single.

“Ho-ly shit.” Mark whistled under his breath. “I take it back. Going back to school might not be so bad after all.”

-The Dragon King-

Hit a target with a Pokeball? Easy.

Marcus had played some baseball as a kid, he loved the game but was never good enough to make it past the kiddy leagues. He’d spent more than a few seasons in America’s favorite pastime, and throwing a Pokeball was kinda like throwing a baseball, just it didn’t have as good of a grip, and the balance was all off.

Once he was adjusted he was nailing bullseyes left right and center. Easy top place. Easy 100 on the test.

“Hwa!” Casey shouted and he threw his mock pokeball, only for it to fly over the top of the cut out Mareep and miss it by a mile.

“No. That’s completely wrong.” Marcus sighed. “You’re lobbing the thing like a rock, you gotta pitch it. Copy me, your form is all fucked up. Hold it back, level with your head, then forward and in. Not up and over, forward and in!”

-The Dragon King-

“I don’t know why they have Baseball here, but I’m not going to question it.” Marcus said as he pushed the door open to a Baseball shop.

“The sign clearly says ‘Batball’ though?”

“Shut up Casey, I’m trying to ignore that. You asked me for help throwing and said you’d pay for the training gear, so follow my lead.” Mark said before strolling up to an overweight guy behind the counter. “One bucket of baseballs, and a metal baseball bat, for my size, please.”

The shopkeeper stared back at him with a completely vacant expression.

“He means a bucket of Batballs, and a Batball Bat.” Casey chimed in, standing on his tippy toes to look over Mark’s shoulder. “And why do we need a bat?”

“First: That name sounds dumber every time I hear it. Second: We need the bat besaaauuuse, uh, I’m going tooo, uh. I’ll be trying to smack the balls out of the air while you aim for a target behind me. Yes, that’s why we need it! If you want to be consistent you need to learn how to hit your mark even in unfair circumstances.”

-The Dragon King-

“Well done!” Miss Apple clapped her hands, somewhat astonished. “Full bonus points to Mr Cross! You only had to list 20, I’ve never heard someone recite all the Kanto Pokémon with such confidence or so quickly! Especially without any sort of reference or hesitation!”

Marcus leaned back in his chair, looking smug.

“Literally how?” Casey whispered from next to him.

“There was a really dumb and catchy rap that played on TV, back when I was a kid.”

“Now would you kindly list 15 from the Galar region?”

“...The what?”

-The Dragon King-

“These are a favorite among trainers with bird type Pokemon.” The shopkeeper said as he held up a pair of thick leather gloves that ran all the way down to the elbow, and looked more like armor than gloves. “With these babies on, you can hold your arms out, and your flying types can perch on you without worry. You won’t be able to feel anything but the largest talons through these! And typically by then, they’ll be too large to perch on you anyway.”

Marcus whistled appreciatively, but couldn’t help but wince at the price tag. “That is exactly what I need, but don’t you think the price is a bit high?”

“Nah, this is made with premium Bouffalant leather. Anything less would get ripped apart after the first evolution.”

“Ouch. Look, I’m interested, I really am! You completely sold me! I have to get this. But my paycheck doesn’t come in for another two weeks. I don’t suppose you could hold one of these in stock for me?”

“For two weeks? Yeah I could do that for you.”

“Awesome! You’re the best, dude!” Marcus finger gunned the cashier as he walked away. 

Time to go to his “job” where he did a daily run around every vending machine in the city, looking for spare change. This was only, what, his fourth straight week of doing it?

-The Dragon King-

“-nd Fairy is the most mysterious of the Pokemon types. Scientists only put together enough evidence to have it labeled as an official type a few years ago, and it took the combined effort of Professors from regions all over the globe! Fairy’s are very enigmatic, and we know very little of them”

Casey and the rest of the students listened to the teacher with wide eyes, but Markus wasn’t paying attention at all.

Fairy type was some dumb, weird, fluffy BS type that Game Freak shoehorned into the newer games in an attempt to make their outdated combat system exciting again. It was forced into X and Y even though there was only, like, basically 10 or so Pokemon that had the type. And most of those weren’t even new ones! They were already existing Pokemon that had been retroactively changed. Those were also, coincidentally, the last games he ever played.

Any Pokemon he played after that was emulators or fan remakes of Platinum, the Black & White games, or HeartGold.

“A carnivorous omnivore, the Salamence line can eat fruits and vegetables just fine, but their massive protein intake requirements means that the vast majority of their diet has to be made of meat.” Mark hummed and flipped the page of a Pokepedia. “So you like meaty things, do you?

-The Dragon King-

Marcus slowly made his way through the edge of the forest, and stepped into the outskirts of the clearing he’d first landed in. It had taken days to track down on his own, but he’d managed it through stubbornness and trial and error.

He walked over to the base of a tree, kneeled down, and scowled as he raised up a burnt piece of rope.

Both of the rabbit snares he’d made had been ripped up and burnt away. Granted they had been kinda shit, considering he hadn’t made one since basic training, but still.

The traps had been ruined and the hamburger he had used as bait, which had been his lunch, was missing.

He turned the piece of rope over and a chunk of ash fell off, revealing blueish purple embers.

“Clever girl.”

-The Dragon King-

The early school tests were so easy he actually fell asleep during a couple. It was all basic type matchups and different types of pokeballs. He passed them all with perfect scores.

The later tests were a bit rougher. Trying to remember vague city trivia from NPC dialog he’d read years ago was surprisingly difficult, but still doable. And going with his gut seemed to work when trying to highlight where certain types of Pokémon could be encountered in the region.

The final stretch of tests were difficult, but not in the good way, where it made you actually use your brain. They were difficult in the bullshit way. The way that required the boring memorization of obscure facts, rather than any brainpower.

“What is the historical significance of the Great Marsh being a nature reserve? Who cares? What legal exemptions are Rangers given that regular Trainers don’t have, under Sinnoh Common Law section 14? Don’t know. What was the founding date of the first gym in Sinnoh? What version of the Ace Trainer’s license is required to act as an international emissary in emergency situations?” Marcus scoffed and crumpled up the test that was covered in red marks. “Who the crap actually cares about any of that?”

“M-Mark! That was the final! It’s 10% of your whole grade! You can’t just write ‘ I don’t care ’ in the blanks!”

“I can and I did.” Mark laughed and tossed the paper wad into the trash. “I only needed a 30 on it to pass the class and I got a 42! Easy win.” He shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Besides, none of that was in the games, and you saved the world without it, so there’s no way it’s that important.”

“None of it was the what?”

“Nothing.” Marcus rolled his eyes and relaxed back into his seat. “Well now that we’re officially trainers, what are you thinking about getting as your first ‘mon?”

“I was thinking of something simple to start with, that’s easy to take care of, but that can grow with me into a competitive ace. Something like a Starly.”

Mark scoffed and kicked Casey’s chair. “That is the most boring first pick I’ve ever heard. Aim bigger.”

“A Staraptor is plenty big.” Casey pouted. “And you need to be in the top 3% of the entire Region’s trainer schools to qualify for a lab starter- which neither of us are.” He sent a sideways glance to Mark’s crumpled test in the trash can. “What about you, what ‘BIG’ starter do you want to catch?”

“Oh, I’ve got my first pick already locked in.” Mark grinned sharply. “I’m gonna catch that fucking Bagon that’s been scampering around in the woods, the one that headbutted me.”

“You want to have a Dragon as a starter?” Casey asked incredulously. “Not even the majority of Dragon type specialists started with a Dragon. They’re super hard to keep in line.”

“Maybe if you don’t know what you’re doing. You just need a few Gym badges and they’ll listen to you without question. Trust me.”

“If you say so…”

The bell rang and the teacher began handing out blue envelopes to all the students, which contained their final report card.

Some had notes telling students not to give up just because they had failed, and to try again next year. Others had a note of congratulations taped to a beginner level trainer license, along with a graduation present.

“Here you go students! Don’t feel bad if you failed, the pass rate for the class is only 30% on average. But those of you who did pass, even barely -” Miss Apple muttered under her breath as she glanced at Mark. “-are rewarded with a single state-sponsored Pokeball to go out and catch your starter with! Tomorrow we have one last lesson, and then a field trip! You can either choose to get help from a teacher, or an approved family member, because tomorrow we’re headed outside of town to help you find and catch your first Pokemon! But remember, don’t go into the tall grass alone, without a Pokemon to fight for you.”

She waved to the teenagers as they left the classroom, some much happier than others, but stopped Mark and Casey before they could leave.

“Could I get a quick word with you two for a moment? Alone?”

“With me?” Marcus ran a hand through his hair and put on his best smile. “You can talk to me anytime you want, how can I help you?”

“First I want to say that I’m very proud of you two for passing my class.” She said as she took a seat behind her desk. “But I think it would be best for you, if we had a real talk about your chances as trainers.”

“What do you mean?” Casey questioned, while Mark crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

“While we make the class hard to make sure that only the students actually capable of holding their own can go on a journey, there’s still a reason that we encourage trainers to start their journeys in their teens. It lets you finish maturing and take the first steps of adulthood alongside your Pokemon. You grow up together. That forms a near unbreakable bond that’s hard to replicate. If the two of you decide to do the full gym circuit, and push to the Elite four, well… By the time your pokemon fully mature, and are at an Ace level, you’ll have started to age, you won’t be able to physically keep up with them anymore.”

“I don’t think age is what keeps people from being able to ‘keep up’ with monsters capable of summoning tornados.”

“That’s not what I mean. If you have Ace level Pokemon who see their trainer as incapable or unworthy of leading them, and you don’t have a deep and completely stable bond with your partners…” Miss Apple winced. “There have been cases where that’s gone really bad, and has led to a lot of deaths over the years.”

“Cut to the chase.” Mark grunted. “What are you trying to say?”

The woman looked at the two of them regretfully.

“I’m saying you should give up becoming trainers. That’s my honest opinion.”

“But I passed! I studied so h-hard! I w-waited y-years! I-I-I-” Casey hiccuped, tears welling up in his eyes and threatening to spill out.

“I’m sorry honey, I really am.” Miss Apple said gently. “But someone needed to be honest with you. It would be best if you packed your things, and just went home.”

“Yeah, well someone needs to be honest with you too, bitch.” Marcus shoved his way between the bombshell of a MILF and the crying Casey.

“I thought you were really hot, like really hot. And before those absolutely dumbass words came out of your mouth, I had been planning on asking for your number after today. Hell, I was fucking ready to put off my childhood dream adventure by a couple weeks, to have a few lunch dates with you and see if we could hit it off. But now you opened your mouth just then, said those words, and I realized just how much of a dumbass you are.”

He leaned forward, tapping a finger on the desk.

“Here’s my honest opinion . Those words were stupid. Your class is stupid. Your opinion is stupid. You should feel stupid. And you’re going to be stupid, when I take down Cynthia and get crowned champion of the entire fucking region.”

Mark slammed his hands on the desk and pushed himself to his full height.

“Fuck this school, fuck you, and fuck that bonus class day tomorrow! I bet you were gonna try to get me to catch a Bidoof or something stupid anyway!” He scowled and barged out of the room. “Come on Casey, don’t listen to the stupid lady. We’re taking the Pokeballs that we earned , and leaving.”

-The Dragon King-

The next day came far too slowly, and it found Marcus angrily marching down the streets in the early morning light, towards the ever ominous Eterna Forest.

That fucking bitch.

What was the point of being sent to the Pokemon world, if he wasn’t going to be a Pokemon trainer!?

She was wrong, and Mark knew she was wrong. He actually knew a lot of things that she didn’t! Like the fact that Ash Ketchum was kind of important.

That’s right.

Ash, fucking, Ketchum. The golden, forever 10, posterboy of the entire franchise. He existed in this world. Marcus had looked him up on the school PC. Ash was something of a D tier celebrity online. He hopped from region to region and participated in practically every available tournament, but while he always gave a really good effort, he could never quite come out on top.

But strangely giant chunks of his online profile were just… missing. It was like he would occasionally just fall off the earth for months at a time, and even certain events that are usually extremely well recorded to prevent fraud, such as gym battles, were just completely missing any records that they ever happened.

It was almost like there were reasons for very important people to put a lot of effort into wiping some events that Ash was tied to from public record. Like say, Legendary sightings, or international conspiracies.

You know who else existed?

Red. THE Red. The missing Kanto champion who swept across the region like a nature, obliterated the Elite Four within a year, and then defeated the only real challenge he ever faced, his rival, to take the throne of champion. Then he crossed over into Johto and demolished the entire region in less than two months, before disappearing into the wind, and leaving both nations’ power structures completely in ruins.

His win record was 100%, he was the only trainer to ever become champion without losing a single battle, let alone do it twice . And no one knew where he was. 

No one except Marcus. Red was up on the top of mount Silver, unceasingly training his monstrous team against the most dangerous area in the region, where fully grown Tyranatars were a common sight.

Red was sitting there. Waiting for a challenger.

And Marcus knew that because he’d played the games. He played the games, he watched the anime, he knew how this world worked.

Granted, this was real life now. He was fully willing to accept that things were a lot more dangerous and gritty here than what he’d seen through his screen. But people like Ash and Red existing was proof, he knew how this world worked at its core.

“I’ll show her what a real Pokemon trainer is.” Mark grumbled under his breath as he headed towards the woods, passing a pond with an old fisherman sitting on its edge. “Gonna catch the Bagon, and then take on the Gyms.”

“You’d best not be headin out into the Eterna Forest, for a few days, lad.” The fisherman called out. “Twas a full blue moon last night. The spirits ‘avn’t settled on down yet.”

“Spirits?” Marcus turned to look at the fisherman. “You mean Ghost Pokemon?”

“I said full moon, not new moon, didn’t I? There are things much worse out ‘n about right now.” The old man shook his head. “You go in now, and you’ll get pulled into the Deep Woods, lad. Where the shadows stretch even in the height of day, and the canopy blocks out the sun. Foul things lurk there.”

“I’m not stupid, and I’m in plenty good shape, I’ll run from anything dangerous. Besides, Ghost types are all nocturnal, and I know exactly where I’m going. I can handle a few Pokemon. ”

“They ain’t Pokémon!” The man hissed. “They say they are, an brush it all off, but I’ve seen it with me own eyes! They’re not natural, I tell you!”

“Yes, and other Pokémon, such as fire breathing Lizards, and genuine Ghosts are natural.” Marcus rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’m going into the forest for a bit. Only like ten minutes, and I’ll be out. Do you want to elaborate on what you’re talking about, maybe give some advice? Or are you going to continue to be vague, and not say what it is you think is in the woods?”

“Advice ye say. Ha!” The fisherman laughed darkly. “Aye, I can give ye advice.”

“If yeh get lured in- and they do try to lure folks in, then be as careful as possible, and don’t trust anything! Not even your own eyes!

“If they ask to have your name, don't give it! Make something up! But never your real name! Giving your full name to ‘em is a recipe for disaster!

“Don't eat the food. Don’t accept any gifts. Never, NEVER, say ‘thank you’! Not for anything, it implies that you’re in their debt.

“And if you see a person in there…” The old man shivered. “Count the fingers, don’t look them in the eye, and do NOT make any deals!”

Marcus blinked at him blankly, then turned and walked away from the crazy old guy who was probably on drugs and/or got licked by a Gastly as a kid.

This was Pokémon, it was an action series. There were dragons, and ghosts, giant meteors careening towards the planet, and evil organizations that wanted to blow up the world. There was a lot of bad stuff but it was all up in your face, fit for TV. This wasn’t some old German fairy tale about Fey.

That just wasn’t how Pokemon logic worked.

Pokémon had legendaries like Kyogre and Groudon leveling mountains in epic fights! It didn’t have Fey making cryptic deals, like loopy back alley drug dealers who were high as a kite on their own supply.

He knew how this world worked.

…

Right?

-The Dragon King-

“All right, class, welcome to our last lesson!” Miss Apple clapped her hands. “This is very important, so listen closely. Before we head out to catch your starters, we’re going to talk about Type Energy!”

She motioned to the words written on the board.

“Type Energy is the energy that Pokemon naturally generate and use to perform moves. It’s the fire for a flamethrower, it creates the cold gust of an icy wind, it’s what makes quick attack’s speed possible! But despite this, no one is 100% certain how it works, not even the Professors can agree! That’s why we don’t test you on it. Now can anyone tell me why a balanced type team is recommended by the League?”

A kid in the back raised their hand and she pointed at him.

“Because it rounds out your team against potential weaknesses, and lets you better plan for different challenges.”

“Very good! That’s true, but it’s also so that the different Type Energies can cancel each other out, and help negate the effects on you. The main drawback with this is that if you specialize with one type, like most gyms do, you never have to worry about conflicting personalities or internal fights within your team.” 

The class muttered in confusion at this.

“That’s right, TE can have effects on people. Over long periods of exposure to significant amounts, Type Energy can start changing the way you think and act. It’s why parents usually have children interact with weak Pokemon while growing up, so they can start developing a resistance to it.”

“Are we gonna be in danger from our own Pokemon?” One of the kids cut in.

“Pokemon are always dangerous, and you need to be careful, but TE isn’t all that bad. Just like how Pokemon adapt to work with their trainer, TE can help you better adapt to your Pokemon, and forge an even closer bond. As long as you journey alongside your pokemon, your resistance to TE will naturally increase over time, even as their output of it increases as well.”

Miss Apple stepped up to the board and took the time to write out all the types in different columns.

“Now let’s go over the different kinds of TE, so you can better understand it, and know how to deal with it.”

“Normal type energy is the most adaptable, the most diluted, and the ‘cleanest’ variation of Type Energy. It has no measurable effects on Humans except in e really high doses, where it kind of just makes you not want to try new things, and is perfect for building up a resistance to TE.”

“Next is the biggest group, which are the elemental types. Fire, Water, Grass, Ice, Electric, Ground, Rock, and Steel. These are some of the most basic types and even they can still have an impact on people. It’s not the same for everyone but if you watch long enough you’ll find patterns, such as Fire type users often being quick to get pumped up, or Grass type users becoming especially fond of flowers and gardening.”

“The next group of types after the elemental ones is a much smaller one, only composed of Bug, Fighting, and Flying. They have more complicated and abstract effects on a person’s mind, but are by and by still not too harmful if managed properly. It’s the next groups where things start to get dangerous.”

Miss Apple stepped over to the other side of the chalkboard, where only six types were listed.

“The dangerous category can be split very neatly into two sections. The first is composed of Dark, Poison, and Psychic Type Energy. High amounts of these can wreak havoc on an individual exposed to them for long periods of time, even if it’s not even all that much. They can completely change personalities, as well as have physical effects on your body.

“Poison TE will wear down your immune system, and can make you incredibly sick. Dark type specialists often suffer from depression from the amount of Dark TE they’re exposed to, and have the highest rate of suicide among all trainers. Psychic TE exposure can cause memory loss, recollections of things that never happened, schizophrenia, and in extreme cases, even cause people to develop weak psychic abilities of their own if they are exposed to enough of the TE early in life.”

The teacher tapped the board and drew a circle around the three types.

“The Pokemon League heavily recommends not catching a Pokemon that is a ‘pure’ Psychic, Dark, or Poison type, until you have at least obtained two gym badges. These Pokemon require a skilled and experienced trainer to manage properly, and have some of the highest rates of turning on their trainers. But our last category is by far the most dangerous, and makes even these look harmless.”

Miss Apple took a moment to erase the entire board, and wrote the three final types in big bold letters.

“The Pokemon League recommends that you don’t take on a Pokemon with a Secondary typing of these until after your second Gym badge, that you not take on a Pokemon with a Primary typing of these until after your third Gym badge, and that you don’t specialize with them in general.”

GHOST. She underlined the big word and drew an angry Gastly next to it.

“Ghost types stretch the barrier of what a Pokemon is. They are souls that have clawed their way back from the other side after death, and have lost all of their past but their most traumatic memories. They have not only seen death, but have experienced it first hand, and have a uniquely cheap view of any sort of life- why would they care about the death of others, considering they are already dead themselves? Forming a true bond with them is exceptionally hard, considering what it takes to have something in common with a Ghost type, and is usually only achieved by Trainers who have lost people dear to them, or have a truly macabre personality.

“They range from playful spirits that enjoy mostly harmless pranks, to vengeful poltergeists that thrive off of misery and suffering. Some of the most exotic theories from various Professors even suggest that some Ghost Pokemon might form, not just from dead Pokemon, but from souls of dead Humans as well, and that constant exposure to Ghost TE increases the likelihood that a person will turn into one when they die.”

“But while the Ghost type category is mainly dangerous because of the Pokemon it contains, these next two are just as, if not more dangerous because of what their TE can do to you.”

Miss Apple walked to the center of the room and coughed into her fist, making sure she had everyone’s attention. 

“Listen VERY CAREFULLY, class. If you have been sheltered for most of your life, and have grown up without contact with very many Pokemon, DO NOT catch either of these last two types until you have built up a resistance to TE from interacting with other Pokemon.”

-The Dragon King-

Marcus grumbled under his breath as he fought his way through the underbrush of the forest. Where did that fucking clearing go? It had been kinda deep into the woods, sure, but it was still pretty close to the edge! It hadn’t even taken him half this long to walk to it last time!

“Dragon Type Energy is ancient. It’s the purest form of TE, nothing but raw power , and is theorized to be the original type of TE that all others branched off from. There’s a reason that most legendaries, most notably the trinity, all three of Arceus’ direct children, are all primarily Dragon types.”

“Where the Hell did it go? I could have sworn it was right here ! Clearings don’t just move on their own!”

A hoot and a faint ringing caught his ear and he turned his head to find the path he was looking for sitting right to his side.

“Oh, it didn’t move, I’m just fucking blind.”  Mark slapped himself on the head and began walking down the path. “Geeze, I can’t wait until I’m an actual trainer and have a source of income. I would kill for a flashlight, this place is way too dark for the middle of the day.

Marcus’ brow furrowed as he said that, and he slowed to a stop.

“Dark in the middle of the day?” He said again aloud to himself. It hadn’t been dark last time, and that sounded awfully familiar to what the old man had said.

He forced himself to blink a few times, and suddenly… Wait, what? No, this path didn’t look familiar at all! What had he been thinking?

He frowned, shook his head, and walked back the direction he came from, while sending a hesitant glance back over his shoulder as he left.

“Dragon TE is ANGRY, it’s AGGRESSIVE, it wants to COMMAND, and it wants RESPECT. Dragons are some of the most territorial and hard to control of all Pokemon. They will not follow a trainer they view as weak, they will not follow a trainer they do not respect, and the only thing a Dragon respects is power.”

“Oh, here it is!” He scowled as he stumbled into the clearing from the complete opposite direction of the city. “Bagon, oh Bagon! Come on out, I want a rematch with you, ya little fucker! I need payback for the skull fracture you gave me with that bobble-head looking noggin of yours!”

“Dragon TE is dangerous because of how INTENSE it is, it can completely overwhelm people, and rewire them from the inside out. According to the ancient Draconid Tribe of Hoenn, Dragon energy is like a Dragon itself, you have to fight it for dominance and force it to obey you, but if you fail to do so, then you will wind up obeying it.”

It only took a few seconds for the little blue Dragon to come marching out of the bushes to defend its territory. From this direction, Mark could see a small nest hidden in the brush.

Bagon growled, baring its fangs. Unfortunately the threat was less effective thanks to the bread crumbs on its face, and the fact that there were pickle slices, just randomly sitting on the ground from where it had come from.

“Some of the greatest Dragon type masters alive have spent decades building up resistances, and working to control Dragon TE, such as Gym leaders Lance, Clair, and Drayden. But if you’ve ever watched them at all, it’s easy to see the TE’s influence on their personalities. Even the Hoenn league’s famous Drake of the Elite Four, well… the fact he legally changed his name to Drake should say it all. ”

“Wow, okay. That was my Hamburger! You know, I only get two small meals a day from the Pokemon center, but I still gave up one of those to use as bait, and you have the audacity to not even eat the pickles?”

“BA!” The Bagon laughed and made a show of stomping the pickle into the dirt, before shooting a small gout of blue-purple fire.

“Shit!” Mark shouted and dove to the side. “Oh I’m going to make you regret that!’ He said as he picked himself up and pulled the metal baseball bat off his back.

“Dragon TE will overrun a new trainer and cause them to blaze like a wildfire, they will shine brightly, but burn out quickly. Sometimes the stress is too much and they burn out mentally, or they break emotionally, or, in the worst case scenarios, their body can’t keep up and they burn out physically.”

“You little shit.” Marcus grinned and his bat made a loud clap as he slapped it into the palm of his leather glove. “I’m gonna fucking enjoy this.”

-The Dragon King-

“Excuse me, Miss Apple?” A kid in the back of the classroom raised his hand. “Why is the Fairy Type on the list of the most dangerous ones?”

“Ah, that’s a bit of a tricky question. Mainly because we don’t have all of that answer yet.” the teacher shrugged. 

“Fairies are very similar to Ghosts in a lot of ways. They’re rare, isolationist, and don’t really seem to fit in our world. Their diets are a perfect example of this, and shows how incredibly strange Fairy types can be. Fairies have shown to not take much sustenance from the content of the food they eat, instead how much care and love went into making the food, is what determines its nutritional benefit to them.”

“Fairy TE can cause a variety of effects on a person, from changing their hair color to pink, to changing their personality, to causing them to have massive emotional mood swings. And with the recent paper that Professor Oak published, suggesting Fairies can use the TE they give off to manipulate emotions…” Miss Apple trailed off with a frown.

-The Dragon King-

“Mark? Hello? Anyone?” Casey called out as he stumbled through the woods. 

Mark’s determination the other day had inspired him. He wanted to catch his starter on his own too! So he had run to the edge of town to go tag along with Mark, but when he got close, Mark walked into the woods and kind of just vanished.

“MARCUS! Where did you go? Is anyone there!?”

A hoot of an owl, and the soft ringing of a bell caused him to turn left, where there was suddenly a path where he had almost sworn there hadn’t been one before.

“Hello?” He leaned forward, and almost screamed when he noticed a pair of small, pink, glowing eyes staring at him from the darkness. “Wh-Who’s there!?”

A detached voice giggled behind his ear, causing him to jump and turn around, to find there was nothing there. When he looked back at the path, the eyes had gotten closer, and out of the shadow of the trees floated a small white Pokemon holding onto a red flower like an umbrella.

“Oh thank Arceus, you’re just a Floette.” Casey sighed in relief and crouched down. “What are you doing little fella? I didn’t know you guys were in this region.”

The little flower Pokemon let out a soft airy laugh that sounded like wind chimes, and was carried off by a passing breeze, deeper into the darkest depths of the forest.

Casey followed.

“It’s best to avoid Fairy types until you’re more experienced. Especially considering how much about them we still just don’t know.”

-Chapter End-

Mostly just set up this chapter, we get to the actual story next time, and I’m not gonna lie- I kinda really like what the plot of this half thought out idea is turning into on my outline doc.

Going the “old creepy fairytale Fey” route with the Fairy type was pure genius, and I honestly don’t know where it came from. But hey, that’s why I made the Discord in the first place, ideas, so at least it’s working as intended.

*Sips Hot Chocolate*

Thank you to my supporters who support me and my crippling Hot Chocolate addiction.

The members of the Shadow Government, who funnel taxpayer funds directly into my corrupt wallet! Long may they reign!

MidnightHydro! (The Mighty!), Eternal Guard (The Emboldened!), Helios (The Honored!), thegodfather (The Great!), 0RB! (The 0pulant!), Rom Hack (The Robotic Housekeeper!), and Indyk (The Insatiable Imperial!)

The Champions! Leading the fight!

Nvsoulsborne, ShelDrake, Tom Tat, Gage Donaldson, The Brandonator, Nuckles222, wolfwind01010, Thrawn,  TheButterButter, Twin the Commissar, PrisonDIctator, and Adante!

The Dollar Army! Marching with honor and glory!

Alex Estrugo, Blue_port, Eledu, Nyte, Elenium935, Jac, Jaydon Adams, jordan arrow, Max Buckner, phil, Quan Perryman, WiseKitsune, Spam2Spam, Gavin, GrimDeathKnight, Hamza Abdallah, Indie, Aswin Suthan, SonicDJM, EngineerLife24, drwinter169, Prince of Ruin, SILENGE, Lord_of_Pola, LukasH, Savage Scorpion, Anima, Summers Mori, and my boy Slowchoke

Chapter Text

Bah, why did I make Fairies important to the plot again? I made Mark a Pokemon “boomer” that hadn’t played much of anything after Black/White partly so that I could sarcastically poke fun at my own experiences being completely confused hearing about stuff from the new games that I hadn’t kept up with.

But now I’m having to go and spend time reading what types of Fairy pokemon there are, because I can’t remember any other than Sylveon and Gardevoir. Didn’t use Fairy in X or Y, didn’t use them in Sun/Moon. And I don’t even think I finished those last two.

Anyway, back to portraying them as “IRL” Fairies, because if the games had pitched this type to me the same way as these old wives tales I’m reading, I would have done a whole Fairy/Ghost team.

*Sips Hot Chocolate*

Also this fic is a mix of the Game and the Anime. How much of each? Ehh, if I told you, then Mark’s wild and baseless speculations won’t have as much weight.

-The Dragon King-

-Yankeeeee/ F̷̮̔o̸̳̽o̷̹̔l̶͙͝s̴̺̾ ̷̤͋i̸̮̚n̵̠̿ ̸͕͑ṭ̸̂h̷̲͌ḙ̸̐ ̶̱̎W̷̧̛o̴̧̿ö̴̟́d̶̠̓s̶̰͊: Ch3-

Marcus stood across the clearing from Bagon.

All he had on him was his battered old military uniform, a pair of worn out boots which had seen him through the end of the world, and the basic hand to hand combat training he got in the Military.

Tool wise, he wasn’t much better. He had a pair of thick leather gloves, purpose built to withstand massive talons, which were (hopefully) tough enough to withstand pointedly lizard teeth, and a trusty metal Baseball bat.

That was all he had to tame a Dragon.

But it was a small Dragon, it couldn’t be that hard.

Marcus let out a war cry as he charged forward, bat raised high in the air, Bagon matched his roar and charged forward.

Mark swung his bat, and Bagon jumped over it, and slammed into him with a Headbutt. Mark was sent tumbling back, spittle flying from his mouth as one of his ribs cracked.

-The Dragon King-

“Alright class, today you’ll be catching your starter! Your companion for your journey and your lifelong friend!” Miss Apple addressed the crowd of excited students, some of which had already tried to run off on their own.

“Usually we would go into the outskirts of Eterna Forest, but the pokemon in there are too rowdy after last night's full moon. So unfortunately we’re going to have to restrict ourselves to the tall grass on route 206.”

There were various sounds of dismay and annoyance from the students.

“Yes, I know, I know, but to make up for it I managed to get a special volunteer, who’s agreed to help you all catch your starters today! She’s a trainer who’s not only competing in both the Gym circuit and the Contest circuit, but has already won multiple badges and ribbons!”

The teacher stepped aside and motioned for a girl to step forward. She had a black V-neck tank top with a white shirt under it, a very short pink mini skirt, and a red scarf. On her head, she had a white beanie with a pink Poké Ball print, that sat on top of well kept blue hair.

“Hello everyone, my name is Dawn!” She said with a smile. “Let’s catch some Pokemon!”

“I’m gonna catch an Ampharos!” One of the kids shouted. “I won’t accept anything weaker!”

“I don’t think there are any Mareep flocks in this area.” Dawn sweatdropped. “Also wild pokemon that have gotten to their third evolution are super rare, and usually mean bad news.”

“Are you really doing Gyms and Contests?” Another kid asked skeptically.

“Yep!” Dawn smiled and brought out two flat cases, one blue and one silver. She clocked the buttons on the side and had to push down a feeling of pride as the kids ohh and ahhed.

In one case sat the Jubilife and Floaroma Ribbons. And in the other case the Coal, Forrest, and Relic badges sat proudly on display.

“Badges and Ribbons? I didn’t know you could do that!” One of the girls whispered.

“She already has three badges!?” A boy whispered to his friend. “She doesn’t look much older than me!”

Dawn pocketed the cases with a haughty smile. It felt good to show off sometimes. Maybe that was why she liked Contests?

“Alright little miss three badges.” Miss Apple chuckled. “Any last words of advice before we head out?”

“Of course! The bond you share with your Pokemon is special.” Dawn said, to the students, as she released her Piplup and picked him up in a hug. “And that goes doubly so for your starter! You need to make sure your starter is on the same wavelength as you. Ideally you don’t want to force them to fight for you, you should befriend them instead!”

-The Dragon King-

“BRRLURLRURLGHRLRHRHUFGGRR!”

Bagon shook its head wildly with the end of the bat gripped firmly between its teeth, like it was some kind of rabid dog using a stick for a tug of war.

“Drop it! Let it go!” Mark demanded as he tried to wrestle back control of his only real weapon. The little fucker was deceptively strong for his size, and the mud was making it so that for every three steps he managed to pull back, the Bagon would pull him forward one.

-The Dragon King-

“But don’t we have to fight them to catch them.” A kid asked.

“That’s true, but ideally you want to use that as an opportunity to impress them, and show them how much stronger a Pokemon can be with a good trainer!” Dawn pumped her fist in the air. “The two of you will go on many journeys together, so it’s important that you get along! Make a good first impression, and become friends!”

-The Dragon King-

“Die! Die! Die!” Marcus shouted as he lifted the bat into the air, Bagon still stubbornly attached, and repeatedly slammed it into the muddy ground.

“Die!”

Smack!

“Die!”

Smack!

“Die!”

Smack!

After a dozen or so solid hits, the little bastard eventually lost his grip and went flying through the air- smacking into a tree with a solid thunk. But it didn’t stay down long, and it immediately charged him.

The Military Vet readied himself to step to the side at the last moment before hitting Bagon like a golf ball, but when it was less than ten feet away, a faint white glow suddenly shone in Bagon’s eyes and it lunged forward. 

It hit Marcus in the legs with enough force to send him airborne, flipping over once and landing on his back. His precious bat slipped from his fingers.

“BAG! OOOON!”

“Shit! Shit! Shit!”

Almost as soon as he got to his feet, Marcus dove back to the ground as he was grazed with a Dragon Breath and his back lit up in blue~purple flames.

But the classic advice of Stop Drop and Roll was failing him because no matter how frantically he rolled in the mud, the magic fire just wouldn’t go out! Thinking quickly, he ripped off his flaming jacket and threw it to the side, leaving him in his white undershirt.

“BAA!” The Dragon’s eyes faintly lit up again, as it channeled Type Energy, and it launched another Tackle at him.

Mark patted the ground around behind him, frantically searching for his bat, and his hand bumped into a loose rock. It wasn’t his bat, but he didn’t care.

“Rock throw!” He shouted as he hurled the fist sized stone at Bagon. It shattered on impact, mainly due to Bagon’s move, and dazed it long enough for Mark to find his bat.

THU-WACK

The bat nailed Bagon square in the midsection with enough force that it folded over, its head touching its feet on the other side of the bat. And Bagon let out a scream of rage as it went sailing into the bushes.

“Home run baby, I still got it.” Mark joked as he stood up, and winced as he put pressure on his left leg.

‘Definitely cracked.’ He thought with a scowl.

But he didn’t have any time to make a splint, or even bandage himself up. Even after a hit like that, Bagon was stomping back into the clearing, looking more pissed off than hurt.

Bagon reared back its head and roared, as it charged forward. Mark raised his bat and ran to meet him.

-The Dragon King-

Casey followed the Floette deeper and deeper into the woods, completely oblivious to just how far he was being led, or how the trees seemed to bend and twist behind him, erasing the path as if it had never existed.

Slowly the forest opened up before him and he gasped as he stumbled into a beautiful clearing. Flowers of every type and color covered the entire grotto, from well kept rose bushes, to massive sunflowers that stood as tall as some of the smaller trees.

But what really took his breath away was the Pokemon, so many Pokemon- some of which he hadn’t thought even lived in the Sinnoh region!

Cleffas played with Togepis, while Snubbulls ran around and a group of Flabébé floated in the wind. A Sylveon napped in the sunlight. A Jiggypuff sang a lullaby to some Marill and a Mawile.

It was like a hidden paradise.

But in the middle of the hidden flower meadow, under the shade of a particularly large flower, two beautiful women sat at a white clothed table, peacefully enjoying tea together. Cups of Tea, Biscuits, and Pies filled the table to the brim.

The one on the right had fiery red hair that dropped to her shoulders, and wore a wreath of roses around her neck that complimented her leaf green dress.

The one on the left had long blue hair that scraped the ground slightly, and wore a pink sweater with a white skirt.

The two looked up at him with matching pink eyes.

“Oh, a visitor!” The red one said as she saw him, though she didn’t sound surprised. “What brings you to us today?”

“I’m sorry for intruding, I just got a bit lost.” Casey raised his arms in apology. “I didn’t mean to barge in, I didn’t even know anyone was here.”

“Don’t worry dear, you’re not intruding at all. Where are my manners? My name is Rose, and this,” she gestured to the blue haired woman. “Is Matte. What’s your name sweetie?”

“Oh, uh.” He scratched the back of his neck. “My name’s Casey.”

“Oh? #######. What a handsome name!” Rose swooned as she walked over. “Please, sit down and eat. We so rarely get guests here, I would hate to not be the best host possible.”

Rose placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and led him over to the table, where he gladly took a seat.

He didn’t question where the tea or food had come from, or why there was a table sitting out in the middle of the forest. After all, why would he? Nothing felt unnatural. It all felt normal.

Instead he smiled and laughed merrily as he drank tea and ate pie with two lovely ladies.

‘I wonder how Mark is doing?’ Casey wondered to himself.

-The Dragon King-

“AAAGH!” Mark shouted as he was dragged through the mud by his fractured left leg.

Bagon had the sole of his boot clamped firmly in its mouth, and was dragging him around the clearing while shaking its head wildly.

“Let! Go!” Mark repeatedly kicked the Pokemon in the face with his good foot, but his blows were being completely ignored. Worse still, he could feel the metal bottom of his shoe slowly giving out.

Thanking God that he kept sit ups as part of his morning workout, Marcus pulled himself as much upright as he could, grabbed ahold of his boot’s shoelace, and ripped the string out of the leather entirely with one mighty pull.

It wasn’t a moment too soon, because almost immediately after he yanked his foot out, Bagon succeeded in crushing the combat boot in two.

Mark scrambled backwards, almost slipping in the mud without his shoe, and Bagon let out a shriek as it gave chase.

He scooped up his bat from where it had fallen, raised it up high, and put everything he had into a double handed downwards swing- executioner style. Bagon ran right into the blow, and Mark hit him so hard on the head that his entire top half was buried in the mud, and the metal bat bent at the handle.

-The Dragon King-

“So, ####### what’s bothering you?” Matte asked as she slowly swirled a spoon in her teacup. “You’ve been putting on such a happy face, but something’s weighing you down. I can see it in your eyes.”

Casey looked away and swallowed the biscuit he had been chewing. “It’s nothing, just some personal stuff.”

“Oh don’t worry, ####### this is a safe place.” Rose smiled. “It’s a place where you can feel relaxed and secure . We’re always willing to help.”

She was right. He did feel relaxed and secure .

And so Casey explained all of his worries. About how he feared he had started too late, about how he feared he was too sickly to even undertake a journey, about how he feared he would be too frail to properly raise a team.

Rose listened to him with a gentle smile.

“Oh dear, how horrible.” She tisked. “Luckily for you, you stumbled upon the one lady who might be able to help you.”

“Really?” Casey asked, intrigued.

“Really. I can fix you up, and help you become the trainer of your dreams. All I want in return are three tiny favors.”

“What are they?” Casey asked as he leaned forward with a desperately hopeful look in his eye. 

“The first is that you plant a sapling in any place of my choosing. The second is that you agree to one undetermined future favor, on the condition that it will always be something you personally want to do. And the third is that I ask for two letters used at some point in your life.”

“Letters?” Casey tilted his head in visible confusion.

“Yes, letters. Think of any of the countless letters you write down every week, and I only want two. They are but paper and ink, fleeting as the seasons, while the treasures I offer are everlasting.”

“So you want me to plant a tree sapling, do one task I already want to do, and give you two letters? Just any of the ones that I can write down?”

“I would want to choose the letters, but yes.” Rose nodded with a smile. “And in return, not only will I guarantee you become a Pokemon trainer capable of rivaling the Champion herself, you will never get sick again.”

Those were strange things to ask for. Very strange. How could a normal person take letters? Or guarantee that he’d become a great Trainer? Or keep him from ever getting sick? But his head was cloudy, and he was too focused on the conversation to think about that. 

Besides, when she said those terms they felt… real.

“I-I’m willing to do that.” Casey nodded and licked the bottom of his lip.

“Perfect.” Rose held out her hand, Matte watching intently from the side. “Do we have a DEAL?”

Casey reached out and shook her hand.

“DEAL.”

He startled slightly at the sound of his voice, and completely missed the brief glow that formed ghostly chains around their hands before fading away.

“The Pact is sealed.” Rose hummed with a wide smile. 

The lady lifted her hand into the air and at the snap of her fingers the entire clearing went absolutely silent.

All of the Pokemon were looking at them, and at some unseen command, one of them walked forward.

Casey’s eyes ballooned.

“H-Hey little guy.” He said softly as he sank to his knees and tried to be as non threatening as possible. And he watched with complete wonder as a small white Pokemon with green hair waddled up to him.

Ralts may not have the greatest eyesight, but thanks to the red horn on its head that gave them their empath abilities, they could sense any living creature from a mile away and immediately know if their intentions were hostile.

You didn’t just find a Ralts in the wild, a Ralts had to find you. And it was entirely up to them if they chose to approach.

The little Psychic looked up at him and titled its head.

“I’m going on a big adventure here soon. I’ve been sick all my life, so my parents have kept me all locked up in our house. But I’m finally an adult, so I’m going to go and see as much of the world as I can, and make as many memories as I can along the way.” Casey held out his hand, a Pokeball in his palm. “Would you like to join me?”

Ralts looked up at Rose, looked at Casey, and then smiled as she tapped the button in the center of the ball.

A flash of red. One Shake. Two Shake. And then the PING of the Pokeball locking.

Casey couldn’t believe it.

“Thank you.” He said to Rose as he stood up. “Thank you so much!”

“Of course. We made a Deal. I will always uphold my end of the bargain.”

“Hold on, you’re not done just yet.” Hatte called out as she walked over, having disappeared when Rose snapped.

Following behind her, with a proud march, was a Pokemon Casey had never seen. It was a small, round, pink thing with two stubby little legs, a blue mop of hair in its head, and a pointy tail that was sticking straight up, and closely resembled a party hat .

“This is Hatenna.” Matte said, as if reading his mind. “She will also be accompanying you on your journey.”

The small pink/blue puffball of cute huffed indignantly, as if being given permission was insulting.

Hatenna marched up to Casey and puffed up proudly.

“It’s nice to meet you Hatenna, did you hear what I told Ralts?”

Hatenna nodded in a way that betrayed her real excitement.

“Do you want to join me, and go see the world?”

Hatenna nodded vigorously.

Casey smiled and pulled out another Pokeball. He had saved up his allowance for over a year to buy 10 of the things, not because he thought he could catch that many Pokemon, but because he’d been worried how many failed tries it would take.

“Well then, I’m happy to have you aboard, partner!”

-The Dragon King-

Dawn couldn’t help but smile as the kid who declared he’d catch an Ampharos rolled around on the grass with his new Bidoof.

Offering Berries and treats to a Pokemon as a way to get to know them didn’t always work out, but it was a happy sight when it did.

“It’s always good to see a peaceful capture.”

Piplup chirped in agreement as he placed her hand on his head, and wordlessly demanded more headpats.

-The Dragon King-

“AHHHH!!”

“BAAAAAAAA!”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

-The Dragon King-

Casey walked out of the grotto, Hatenna and Ralts out of their Pokeballs, and following behind him. The leaves closed behind him, sealing the garden off from the world once again.

But back at the table, the woman he had been talking to was gone. Sitting in her seat was a slender Pokémon with a white upper body and a green lower body. Its lower body resembled a mermaid's tail with two large leaves sprouting in either direction like fins. It had a round head with a pointed, upturned nose; long, teardrop-shaped ears; and dark eyes with green, plantlike lashes. Surrounding its head was an ornate bouquet of beautiful red flowers.

Rose the Florges hummed to herself as she finished her cup of tea.

It was always good to get visitors.

The Floette, that had led Casey to the hidden glade, floated down into her lap and she gently stroked it head.

Another Pokemon walked up, It was very thin and had extremely long blueish pink hair- far longer than its body was tall, which acted like a cloak. The hair on its head poofs out and then spikes up, resembling a hat of a stereotypical sorceress or witch. 

It was also holding a teacup in the hand-like hair tentacle that sprouted from the top of her hat.

“Why the letters?” Matte the Hatte(rene) asked psychically as she came back with more drink, gliding across the ground as if she wasn’t really there.

“You could have asked for something actually valuable, like an hour of his time, or one of his happiest memories, or a strand of hair.”

“Because even though it's been a hundred years, my Trainer’s name was Casey.” Flora smiled as she picked up the Trainer ID card that the silly boy had left in his excitement.

An ID card that’s name slot very clearly read-

[Cassedy Ranger]

“I think it’s such a pretty name. The world could always use more Caseys.” Flora giggled as she wiped her thumb over the name, smearing away the ink of two letters.

[Cas e y Ranger]

“It’s not like I’m being cruel. He won’t mourn his old name, these are my letters now, no one will remember them ever existing. Not Casey, not his parents, not even someone reading them.” She turned to look at the Hatterene. 

“What about you? I may be the maiden of the glade, but you are a dear friend. You can stay here as long as you want and I’ll never allow it to press its rules upon you. Yet you assisted in the deal on your own accord. Why?”

Matte huffed.

“Because the years we spent traveling with our Trainer are some of the happiest memories of my life.” S he sighed with a fond yet distant look in her eyes. “My daughter is growing up and wants to see the world, I would never deny her the chance to experience that.”

-The Dragon King-

Marcus heaved and gasped for air, sweat pouring down his face, as he pushed every muscle he had into keeping Bagon pinned down.

His leg was fractured, his nose was busted, he had several broken ribs, one of his fingers was crushed, and he was covered in a mix of so many bruises and burns that every twist and pull of his skin was painful.

But even still, he powered through all that to put as much force on the bat as he could, pressing the metal bar down and pinning Bagon face down to the ground. 

The Dragon struggled widely, like a feral animal, flailing its stubby arms, clawing at the mud, and shooting out small shots of dragon fire.

“Surrender!” Marcus shouted, pressing the bat down harder. “I win! Give up!”

This caused the Dragon to thrash around even more violently, but after a few more minutes its struggles gradually died down. It dropped its head to the ground, all its muscles going slack.

“Bagon.” It snorted, spiteful but defeated.

“Is that a tap out?” Mark panted.

“Bag.” The Pokemon said resignedly, but with a tone that reeked of sore loser.

Marcus relaxed his hold and stood up, but had to stomp his boot down on Bagon’s back when it immediately tried to turn and bite him.

“Listen here, and listen well! My name is Marcus Cross!” He said as he leveled his beat up bat at Bagon.

“It was my childhood dream to become a Pokemon Trainer, and now that I finally can, I'm gonna take the world by the horns and make it mine. I’m gonna be the very best , like no one ever was! I’m gonna take on every challenge, beat every last Gym Leader, every Rival, every Trainer, I’m going to decimate the Elite Four, and then I’m going to challenge the Champion! Everyone’s scared of Cynthia, they say she might just be the strongest of all the region Champions, and her Garchomp is an absolute monster .”

Bagon’s head perked up at the mention of the Champion owning a Dragon.

“But I’m going to beat her! I’m going to wipe her entire team, and take the crown of Champion for myself! This entire region- no, the entire world will know who I am, and respect me!” Mark stepped off of Bagon and planted his bat in the mud like a sword.

“But to do that I need a partner. I need a second in command. I need an ace that, even when things are at their bleakest, I can always count on to pull through! Do you have the strength and the courage to fill that role? Because what I saw here was a poor showing.”

“Bagon!” The Dragon snapped, offended that anyone would think him not good enough.

“If you join me, I’ll take you to the very top of the world! We’ll show everyone just how strong we really are!” Marcus held out his hand, and then, remembering a fact about Bagons from the game Pokedex, he added. “Together we’ll touch the skies. You won’t just fly, I’ll make you soar .”

Bagon stared at him for a long while before climbing to his feet and lifting his head up high.

“Bagon!”

Mark grinned like a devil, and pulled his Pokeball from his pocket.

“Great choice!”

-The Dragon King-

Marcus felt like a million dollar man as he walked out of Eterna Forest, the sunset illuminating his back as he marched home triumphantly, and Bagon marching alongside him.

He was beaten up, the uniform that he’d spent the last two months patching back together was completely ruined, and even with the fancy healing tech they had in this word he was going to be sore for months.

But nothing could ruin his moment. He’d caught a Pokemon. He’d caught a Pokemon ! And more than that, he’d caught a Dragon as his starter! How awesome was that!?

He could already imagine flying over Victory Road on the back of a Salamence.

“We’re gonna take on the whole fucking world!” Mark shouted and raised a fist into the sky. “We’re gonna make it all ours, and no one’s gonna stop us!”

“BAGON!”

-The Dragon King-

Up at the top of Veilstone City, a man watched the news with disappointment.

“Breaking news from Hoenn! The leaders of the terrorist groups, team Aqua and team Magma, have been apprehended. The organizations have been on the ropes for well over a month now, after a series of coordinated strikes by the Hoenn League, led by Champion Steven Stone, on their largest hideouts.

This is following a sharp fall off of both groups’ numbers, after an opposing set of unknown plans was foiled by international trainer Ash Ketchum.”

Magma and Aqua. One wanted to wipe humanity out in a Biblical scale flood, to “cleanse” the word and return it to an “untainted” paradise for Pokemon. The other wanted to expand the world's landmass, pushing back the water, and giving Humanity more land to colonize an exploit. Naturally to make use of the land humanity would have to survive the extreme ecological fallout, and total destruction of established world weather patterns, but Magma seemed to think it was worth the risk.

Of course the public didn’t know of the groups’ true aims, much less how they actually intended to carry them out.

But he did. 

The fools. They were so short sighted, and their plans just seemed so… hollow, and…

Unambitious .

The door to the room slid open, casting a ray of light into the dark room. In the doorway was a tall woman with short red hair that curled down the sides of her head and slightly over her face, which matched her bright crimson eyes.

And on the chest of the silver white uniform she wore, a stylized yellow G was emblazoned proudly.

“Leader Cyrus.” Mars said as she stood at attention, hands behind her back. “Charon and Saturn reported in. All of the preparations have finally been completed. We can finally begin.”

“Good.” Was all Cyrus said as he stood up.

Hopefully Maxie and Archie would have access to TV in whatever prison they were being thrown into, that way they could see what real ambition was.

-Chapter End-

A giant thanks to the generous people who help get these chapters out faster!

The members of the Shadow Government, who funnel taxpayer funds directly into my corrupt wallet! Long may they reign!

MidnightHydro! (The Mighty!), Eternal Guard (The Emboldened!), Helios (The Honored!), thegodfather (The Great!), 0RB! (The 0pulant!), Rom Hack (The Robotic Housekeeper!), Indyk (The Insatiable Imperial!), Wolfwind01010 (The Wonderous!), Nuckles222 (The Nuclear Threat!)

The Champions! Leading the fight!

Nvsoulsborne, ShelDrake, Tom Tat, Gage Donaldson, The Brandonator, Thrawn,  TheButterButter, Twin the Commissar, PrisonDIctator, Adante, and ShelDrake!

The Dollar Army! Marching with honor and glory!

Phil, Eledu, jordan arrow, Blue_port, WiseKitsune, Jac, Alex Estrugo, Jaydon Adams, Elenium935, Nyte, Max Buckner, Spam2Spam, Gavin, GrimDeathKnight, Hamza Abdallah, Indie, Aswin Suthan, SonicDJM, EngineerLife24, drwinter169, CideredApples, Prince of Ruin, SILENGE, Lord_of_Pola, LukasH, Savage Scorpion, Anima, Summers Mori, Slowchoke, Jacob Roy, Seanfrks, Diavolo, and Brayden!

And a special SPECIAL thanks to :

Eternal Guard and NickPine.

Who have both chosen to help after my Bank got hacked and I lost a lot of money.

Thank you both so much, you are my Heroes.

Chapter Text

I find the idea of Casey to be humorous. He’s purpose built to be the single most infuriating rival someone like Mark could have. Mark's this semi jaded ex military vet, with a big scary dragon team, and grand ambitions. Casey is this bubbly, sheltered, frail, "prettyboy" that uses the funny pink type and hard counters him without even really trying.

-The Dragon King-

-Yankee in Wonderland: Ch4-

The sun had risen over the Sinnoh Region, gracing it with another warm morning.

Marcus was in the Pokemon Center. Again. Luckily he had managed to convince the rather irate Nurse Joy that it had been another Pokemon attack (which it technically had been) and so he got free medical care for the injuries he sustained fighting Bagon.

Free Healthcare for Pokemon attacks sounded really generous, until Mark went in for treatment and all they did was put some bandages on him, and then have Chansey use a healing move.

The medical field was dead, who needs years of experience or expensive college degrees when you can just have your convenient pink blob clap its hands and magic away the injuries. Fuck just healing wild attacks, and the Pokemon of licensed trainers, for free! With how little they did there was no fucking reason prices should be even remotely similar to his old world!

No wonder they had been willing to keep him as a patient for a few months until he either finished getting his trainer license, or his memories came back. Their profit margins had to be fucking Bull Shi t. He bet Nurse Joy was sleeping on a bed made of hard cash, and exclusively took shits on a private gold toilet. (or whoever it was that owned the center) 

“At least it’s not a long recovery time.” Marcus grumbled as he took a bite of his cereal. “This world has it so much easier, it’s genuinely unfair.”

He was down in the lobby of the Pokemon Center, where there were several booths and tables for trainers to sit at and eat while waiting for their Pokemon to be healed.

Bagon, naturally, got his own bowl of cereal, and got to eat at the table. Ain’t no Pokémon of Mark’s was a chump, they deserved MVP treatment.

“Bag Bagon.” The Dragon said as he chowed into his knockoff Cheerios.

“You said it, dude.” Mark nodded, not understanding the words, but agreeing completely with the tone. “It’s too early to be awake.”

Bagon paused, then raised its head and sniffed the air. His eyes narrowed and he growled.

“MAAARK!” Casey cheered as he jogged over. “I’m so glad you're here! I didn’t see you at the school this morning, so I thought you might have left town already.”

“Why would I go back to that dumbass school? We already passed and got our Trainer Licenses, there’s nothing more I need from it. And what are you wearing?” Mark made a face at Casey’s outfit. “Why is it so… colorful?”

“Do you like it?” Casey giggled. “I wanted to match my Pokemon’s color, and make myself more memorable for sponsors!”

Casey wore a light pink and baby blue jacket with white shorts, and a pair of matching light blue running shoes with mint green laces. When combined with how his strawberry blond hair had been brushed straight, it was clear he was aiming for… something.

“You have Pokemon to match with?” Mark asked with an unimpressed raised eyebrow.

“Yeah! Check it out!” Casey spun around to show off a big pink backpack, which two small Pokemon were sticking their heads out of.

One was a Ralts, and the other was a pink… thing.

Bagon growled at them, causing Ralts to shrink back and the pink blob to puff up in challenge.

“What is that thing?” Marcus asked in bewilderment. “It looks like someone put a wig on a gumball.”

“This is Hatenna!” Casey smiled as he lifted his second starter out of the bag. “She’s a Psychic type that evolves into a Psychic Fairy, her kind are almost exclusively found in the Galar region.”

“The what region?”

“How did you even pass Trainer School?” Casey sighed in second hand embarrassment.

“Because I’m in Sinnoh! Best region in the world, baby! How could the Aluuha or Galdare regions possibly affect me in any way? Seems like an unimportant waste of time.”

“It’s very important! With how globalized the world is, new species of Pokemon are being introduced to every region, both intentionally and accidentally, at ever increasing rates! It’s something of a small global issue that a bunch of eco groups are worried about.”

“Bah.” Mark scoffed. “You got Sinnoh, with all the plot. Kanto and Jhoto are where it all started. Unova is somewhere vaguely nearby, they have all the big cities, and Pokemon Hollywood. Hell there’s even Hoenn, it’s personally not my favorite region, half of all its routes are water, but hey it's not too shabby. How could you possibly need any more than that?”

“You can’t just ignore parts of the world you don’t think you need, that’s not how it works!”

“Sure it is.” Mark refuted with pure facts and logic. As far as he was concerned, if he hadn’t played a game in the region, it didn’t matter.

“There’s Kalos, Alola, Galar, Paldea, Fiore, Almia, Oblivia, Ransei, Orre-”

Casey began listing off every region there was, causing Mark to groan with the beginning of a headache.

“Tell you what. Let’s get a third opinion to settle this. Hey! Bagon!”

Bagon looked up from his meal, several Poke-Os stuck on his snout.

“Have you ever heard any of the words that just came out of this guy's mouth?” Mark asked, leaning on elbow on the table.

Bagon shook his head.

“Look at that, he agreed with me! He’s practically an expert already. That’s two votes against one, I win.”

But rather than admit defeat at the hands of democracy, Casey cooed when he saw Mark’s starter.

“Oh my gosh! You really did catch a Dragon! That’s awesome!”

Bagon sat up straight and preened at the attention.

“And he’s so cute ! Just like Ralts and Hatenna!”

Bagon made a fake gagging sound.

“Casey, Bagon’s a badass, not ‘cute’. This is the cool guys table.” Mark tapped his pen on the cheap black plastic of the tabletop. “If you want to gush over your team being ‘cute’, then you can do it over there.” He pointed his pen over to the next table over and Bagon barked in agreement.

“Bag!” 

“Fine! Maybe I will go do that!” Casey puffed up his cheeks in a pout and left, Hatenna sticking her tongue out as they walked away.

Bagon growled at the Fairy types as they left, but Mark ignored that and pushed the cheap notepad he’d bought into the center of the table.

“The first Gym is a Rocky type specialist. So we need to get you leveled up, get you used to fighting other teams, and get you a move that counters Rock Type’s natural defensiveness. I looked up the moves that the Pokenet says Bagons can learn, and only three of them are super effective against Rock, all of which are TMs. But Hydropump would be a fortune, and Mud Slap sucks, so that leaves us with just the last option, Brick Break. I’m not sure how we’re gonna afford it, but we’ll try.”

“But that’s just our first step, our end goal is to beat Cynthia, and become Champions of the whole region. Now not only is Cynthia a total badass who could take on every Gym leader at once, she’s also smoking hot, and I’m pretty sure her Garchomp is a female. If we just win hard enough to impress her during our fight, the two of us may have a way in. Get what I’m saying?”

Bagon nodded, entirely serious, and completely in agreement.

“To do that we need to get strong, very strong. We can’t afford to be just any team, we need to be THE team. The officer academy taught me that you should come at these kinds of big long term problems from a top down perspective, so here’s the rough idea.” 

Mark briefly sketched down some long term steps to aim for.

Land. Labor. Capital.

Then, after a moment, he added ‘Pokemon Team’ to the list.

His college economics professor would strangle him for changing the factors of production, but if he really cared that much he should have tried not dying in the apocalypse.

First off, his Team.

He needed to get an absolute killer team if he was going to stand any hope against the Elite Four, let alone Cynthia. Luckily, he already had a great start with Bagon. A fully grown Salamence would be able to do way more than carry its own weight.

Second, Land.

Easy in theory, hard in practice. He needed a large chunk of land of his own to set up a base, and not have to worry about prying eyes so he could work on some big projects. But to do that he would need to either buy it from someone, which was very expensive, or go to a place so inhospitable and dangerous that no one had bothered to claim it.

Third, Labor.

Another easy one. Pokemon were great labor! Stronger, faster, and more durable than any human!

Need a tunnel dug? Sure you could spend thousands of dollars on heavy digging machinery and then pay for the crew necessary to use it all. Or you could just get a couple Drillburs do it in a day or two.

A mining operation with a dozen or so Pokemon that could dig, had the potential for big money. But when all Pokeballs were smart linked to your trainer ID, and your trainer ID was controlled by the Pokemon League, and the Pokemon League were the ones who required by law that no trainers have more than six Pokemon at any time… Well, it made the idea a bit tougher. Of course there was nothing to say he couldn’t employ some random people as his grunts.

There were trainers willing to serve Team Aqua, whose end goal was to flood the world, it couldn’t possibly be that hard to get some grunts on board!

Fourth, Capital.

Money. How did a Pokemon Trainer make money? TLDR, they didn’t.

He had spent a long while looking it up online, and the long story short was that unless you were sponsored by either a Gym or a regional professor, you were completely on your own. Betting on battles was a common practice, and you could make some cash off that, but nowhere near enough to support a full team. Hence why most of the random trainers you met in the games didn’t actually have a full team, and even still the highest cause for trainers dropping back into civilian life was monetary issues.

Pokemon were expensive to train. They required nutrient rich meals, and specialized care tools, and items, and TMs, and so on and so forth. The common strategy was to try to catch the attention of an organization or wealthy schmuck, and then impress them enough that they decided to sponsor you.

If he was going to support a full team he needed a way to make a ton of money, and he needed a way to make it sooner rather than later. Current ideas involved using a Psychic Pokemon to win the lottery, hunting down rare Pokemon to sell on the market, introducing the scam of crypto currency to the world, and getting a ditto to mass pump out Pokemon eggs to auction off cheaply.

Those four things consisted of the very loosely thought out “Phase one” of Mark’s master plan.

If he could get all four of those going in tandem, he would be able to easily hold his own against any of the countless evil teams running around the world. Hell, he could even make his own little group to serve his own ends. It wouldn’t be called ‘team’ anything, because that would be just begging for a Main Character to swoop in and cause him a headache.

Phase two was even less planned out, and had some pretty wild goals, that were mostly just taking advantage of meta knowledge he knew from the games. But that needed all of phase one knocked out to even have a chance at happening.

“And then phase three is the simplest of them all!” Mark tossed his pen on the table and leaned back. “It’s just us sitting back, chilling, and doing whatever the fuck we want because not a single person could possibly be able to beat us!” 

“BAG!”

“Oh, you like that idea of being unbeatable, huh?” He grinned. “Well then let’s get started.”

-The Dragon King-

The nearby park was nice and open, clear of any flammable trees, and more or less empty at this time of day. So it was a perfect training ground for any broke aspiring trainer.

“Today you begin your training, and take your first step to becoming the most badass Pokemon in the world!”

Marcus paced up and down in a line, mimicking the pose his drill sergeant used to do back in basic training.

“These soda cans that I have stolen from the trash can and lined up, and now your mortal enemy ! They hate you with every fiber of their being, and you hate them just as much back!”

Bagon snarled at the soda cans sitting on the ground.

“Good! Use your anger! You will be demonstrating every move you know on these cans, so that I can build up a list of your abilities. Don’t hold back! Remember, you hate these cans! They despise you! They don’t think you’re good enough!”

“Bagon!”

“Don’t tell me that, tell them that!” Mark pointed dramatically at the cans. “Kill them all!”

“BAGON!” The Dragon shouted and glared at the cans with pure hate before charging forward.

“Leer.” Mark noted down in his notebook. Personally he wasn’t sure how moves like that were supposed to work in an actual fight, but hey, he wasn’t going to complain.

Bagon slammed into the first can, sending it flying off into the distant treeline.

“Tackle.” Mark wrote down. A nice, basic move, perfect for any situation.

Bagon reared back and slammed his head into the next can, flatting it completely. But he clearly wasn’t satisfied because he bit into the compressed metal and ripped it in two, the two largest fangs in his mouth seemed to glint slightly as he did so.

“Headbutt and Bite, that second one is great for some extra type coverage.” 

Bagon took a deep breath and spewed a shower of sparks onto an Apple-aid can, singing it slightly, but not doing much else.

“Ember.” Granted, it was a really shitty Ember, but it was an Ember.

Bagon seemed to get angry at his previous move’s performance, if his scowl was any indication.

“BAAAAA!”

A stream of bluish purple flames washed over the remaining cans, melting them into a cheap aluminum mush and setting the area around them on fire.

“And Dragon Breath, which seems to be both our only ranged option, your only Dragon type move, as well as your strongest attack overall.” Mark closed the notebook with a snap. “In the games your stats were more geared towards physical damage, rather than ranged. So we need to look into fixing your ember, and trying to use your experience with Dragon Breath as a reference to learn a physical move, like Dragon Claw.”

Mark pocketed his notebook and straightened his back with a pop.

“Luckily I already know, first hand, that you can hold your own in a fight, and I know just the place to get you some easy battle experience. So we should get going there, preferably before that park official gets any closer and sees the fire.”

-The Dragon King-

It was the last day of the Trainer School, specifically dedicated to bonding with your new starter. It was supposed to be a day of celebration and fun, where you spent the whole day goofing off on the outside gym, and celebrated the first day of your Pokemon journey.

Casey was really wishing he hadn’t come.

“You totally cheated!” One student shouted.

“I-I didn’t.” Casey tried to defend himself. “Ralts and Hatenna both chose to come with me by themselves.”

“You’re sho bad at lying.” Matthew Birch snorted as he pushed up his glasses. “You don’t just catch a Raltsh. My father’sh great coushin, the famoush professhor Birtch, shaid the only way he wash able to get a Raltsh to hstudy was to buy it from a breeder.” 

“You had to have cheated! We were only given one Pokeball, how could you have possibly afforded another on your own!?” Another yelled.

“His parents are rich, I bet they bought him the extra Pokeball.”

“I bet they bought him a hundred Pokeballs! All without him earning any of them!”

“No, I bet they just bought the Pokemon for him!”

“No matter how you got it, it doeshent matter. My gradesh were sho good, that I qualified to get a region shtarter from the professhor.” Matthew Birch chortled. “Here, let me show you a real shtarter.”

The chubby child unhooked a Pokeball from his belt and, with a flash of white light, a Chimchar popped out.

“He got one of the Pokemon from Professor Rowan!” Someone whispered in awe. “That’s so cool.”

“Shee? That’s a real shtarter.”

Casey stepped backward, shrinking down in embarrassment.

“Where’s that nerd with the Harry Potter looking glasses!? The one with an ego twice the size of his massive football shaped head!”

Before the bullying could continue a loud and brash voice startled everyone. And they all turned as Marcus stomped into the clearing, surprisingly confident for someone covered in so many badges that it looked as though he recently lost a fight with a car.

“I’m ashuming you mean me.'' Matthew stepped forward with an unimpressed look. “But my Glasshesh aren’t hairy, and I’ve never heard of a ‘football’ before.”

“I don't know if you not getting that reference makes you more or less of a nerd, but I don’t really care right now.” Mark jabbed a finger at him. “You’ve been acting suck up, and talking shit every day even after I punched your face in. I challenge you to a battle!”

At the word “battle”, the Pokeball on his belt clicked open, Bagon having forcibly popped the lid from the inside.

“A Bagon, hm?” Matthew adjusted his glasses thoughtfully as Bagon materialized in front of him. “Very well, thish should be a shuitable firsht victory for Chimchar.”

“Ah ah, not so fast. I play for keeps. I say we put down a bet, prove to each other who's really the better trainer. A hundred bucks, what do you say?”

“Bucksh?” 

“Dollars.” Mark corrected himself with an eyeroll. Stupid localizations. “One hundred Pokedollars, the price of a Pokeball. Come on, you sounded so confident a moment before, don’t tell me the nephew of the great Professor Birch is scared ?”

“I am not shcared of anything!” The Birch boy snapped. “Deal. Chimchar, prepare for battle!”

“Char!”

“Bag!”

The two Pokemon stared each other down, and the rest of the new trainers backed up rapidly, to give them a lot of space.

Mark smirked. He had this in the fucking bag.

The Pokemon you got from the Professors were always level five. Bagon (if he remembered correctly) learned Dragon Breath somewhere around level ten. He’d been slightly worried by the fact that the idea of “levels” didn’t seem to be a thing in this world, which he kind of expected considering the anime would have made no sense if you tried to apply levels to it. But the logic was still there!

Also, even if that hadn’t worked out, he knew the kid’s type a mile away. You saw them all the time in the military academies, armchair thinkers who thought they knew everything there was to know about combat. They thought that just because they could list every strategy on a test, and could tell you why the great generals of the past had failed, that they wouldn’t wind up making those exact same mistakes.

They didn’t realize how hard it was to remember those lessons in the heat of the moment. No one could ever understand how hard it was to come up with the “best possible plan” in the three seconds of time you had to choose what to do, when adrenaline was flooding your system, and you couldn’t hear anything over the screams, the explosions, and the blood pumping in your ears.

Matthew crossed his arms and smirked. This was going to be easy.

This idiot really thought he had a chance just because his Dragon types were resistant to the starting types of Grass, Water, Fire, and Electric? Dragon types were some of the worst Pokemon any beginner trainer could have! They were too headstrong and didn’t listen to strict orders very well. Just because his ‘mon might be resistant to Chimchar’s fire, didn’t make it a good fight.

Also, with how poorly this man child had done in Trainer School, he clearly had never been in a real Pokemon battle.

“Everybody stand back, I don’t want anyone getting caught in the total beatdown I’m about to give this guy.” Mark cracked his knuckles. “Bago, open strong with a Dragon Breath!”

“Jump and ushe Ember.” Matthew ordered calmly.

The lab starter leaped over the wave of blue flame, and rained a barrage of flaming red pellets at Bagon, which exploded as they impacted the ground. They POP ed loudly on impact, sounding like large firecrackers, and blasting shallow holes into the ground.

Bagon tried to dodge, but was hit by more than a few.

“Shit! Use Leer, and then rush in close for a Headbutt!”

“BAAAA!”

Bagon was on board with this plan, in fact he was so on board with the second part that he decided to skip the first part entirely in favor of rushing Chimchar and slamming into him with a Tackle.

Matthew scoffed. Just as he thought, the newbie couldn’t control the Dragon. Now all he had to do was wait for the fool to start panicking about how his Pokemon was acting on its own and-

“YEAH! GET ‘EM! GET ‘EM! TEAR HIM TO PIECES! RIP HIM APART!”

Matthew gawked at the sheer brazen stupidity he was witnessing. Mark wasn’t reprimanding his Pokemon’s insubordination, he was actively encouraging it!

“BITE HIS LEG! BITE HIS LEG! DEATH ROLL! BITE HIS LEG AND ROLL! DEATH ROLL, LIKE AN ALLIGATOR!”

“BRRLURLRURLGGGHRLRH” Bagon growled like a dog, with Chimcar’s leg in his mouth, as he rolled around on the dirt, twisting the leg painfully.

The chimp cried out in pain and tried to free itself, but that only caused Bagon to lift him up and start slamming him on the ground.

“YEAH! YEAH! FUCK HIM UP! THRASH HIM ON THE GROUND!”

“Chimchar, no!” The brutality snapped Matthew out of his shock. “Chimchar flare your tail to force him to drop you! Then Scratch to cover your retreat! Quickly!”

Chimchar gasped for breath, and its fiery tail ballooned out in every direction, like a burning wave. It didn’t last for long but it was more than enough to make Bagon rear back in pain. Chimchar took the opening for revenge, and landed two heavy Scratches that cut into Bagon’s belly, before beating a hasty retreat.

“Great job! Now take advantage of your dishtance and ushe Ember!”

“Your voice is so annoying! Bagon shut him up, and blast it away with Dragon Breath!”

Both Pokemon obeyed and a stream of Dragon TE slammed into a onslaught of burning bolts, causing an explosion that covered the whole battlefield with smoke.

“What a predictable counter! Chimchar, use the exploshion as a smoke screen! Rush Bagon down!”

“Don’t let him! Use Dragon Breath again, sweep it across the battlefield!” Mark called out, but Bagon ignored him in favor of charging headfirst into the smoke with a warcry. 

There was a shriek of surprise from Chimchar (who had been preparing to dodge a Dragon Breath), and an audible thunk of a Headbutt connecting. Then the Fire type was sent flying out of the smoke, landing at Matthew’s feet completely out cold.

“Or you could do that. I mean, that works too, I guess.” Mark shrugged with a wide grin. “That’s still a victory either way!”

“Chimchar!” Matthew cried out and quickly returned his starter to its ball. He glared at Mark as he fished out a wad of cash from his pocket and threw it to the ground, before rushing off in the direction of the Pokemon Center.

Sweet sweet victory. Mark walked over and pocketed his new money. He flipped through the bills, noted that the kid had cut him short, and mentally counted up his new bank account balance.

$112.

What? Did you really think he had the kind of cash to legitimately make that bet? He had spent the last two months checking every vending machine in the city daily! He was flat fucking broke!

“YOU FUCKING DID IT MAN!” Marcus laughed and swooped Bagon up as he ran over, and threw him up into the air. “That's what I’m talking about! You wrecked them! Come on! Give me a victory fistbump!”

Bagon landed on his feet and, lacking the arms necessary to bump Mark’s outstretched fist, headbutted it instead.

“AAAHHHH!” Mark screamed in a mix of hype for his first ever win, and pain from his still healing fingers.

“BAAGON!” Bagon shouted with his trainer.

The kid had done well for his first time under pressure, but he’d been doomed to slip up as soon as the battle started and Mark pressed the initiative.

But still, he’d put up a good fight. That move with Chimchar’s tail especially… Using a Pokemon’s abilities in ways that weren’t really moves had a lot of potential. But he’d have to think about that later.

“So then.” Mark clapped his palms together, avoiding his finger, and turned to the crowd. “Which one of you is next?”

-The Dragon King-

“Starly get away! Fly up high, where he can’t reach you!”

“Don’t let that bird get away! Jump after it and clamp on with Bite!”

“Quick, Starly, use Quick Attack to dodge!”

Mark’s eyebrows raised as he watched the little bird envelope itself in a white light and blast itself away without any regard for its previous trajectory or momentum.

“Note to self, moves can be used a lot more creatively here.” He said and scratched his chin. He’d have to look into that later.

“Great job Starly!” The kid, across the courtyard from him, cheered. “Now swing behind him and use Peck while he’s falling!”

The bird dove down and swung around like its trainer said, but the vocal command had given Bagon more than enough forewarning to turn his head and blast the incoming Starly with a point blank Dragon Breath.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Mark shouted and fist-head bumped Bagon as he came running back. “Another win for the dream team!”

The other kids wised up pretty fast after Birch’s defeat, and none of them were willing to put any serious cash on the line. But more than a few were willing to do smaller wagers to test their starters against Bagon.

The kid he had beaten returned his Pokemon, and handed over a small handful of cash with a grumble. Mark was more than happy to add it to his slowly growing wallet, totalling up his savings to 185 Pokedollars.

“That’s fucking money baby!” Marcus cackled with glee as he slapped Bagon on the back of the head. Bagon laughed and playfully chomped on his thickly gloved hand.

From a distance Casey watched enviously.

He was a trainer now, he had two Pokemon, even. Why couldn’t he be that confident? 

“No wonder people love this! Holy crap this adrenaline rush is something else!”

“BAG!”

“I have absolutely zero idea what you just said, but I can tell that you agree with me!”

“BAGON!”

“YEAH! BAGON! THAT’S FUCKING RIGHT!”

Casey hesitantly approached the pair. “H-Hey Mark.”

“Casey? When did you get here?” Mark asked as he turned around.

“I’ve been here for a while.” Casey nervously scratched his neck. “You, uh, you were pretty good in those fights.”

“Well I have to be good if I’m going to take on Oreburgh’s Gym soon.”

“Oreburgh?” Casey asked, surprised. “Are you sure? Roark is the newest Gymleader, and is the weakest of the bunch, sure, but Gardenia’s Gym is in this city. And she’s always styled her Gym as beginner friendly! Her entrance fee is the lowest, she doesn’t require any number of other badges for entry, like Sunyshore or Pastora do, and she awards her badge to people that impress her even if they don’t win.”

“Why would I want that? If I get a badge, it’s going to be because I deserve it, not because of pity points. It’ll be because my team and I beat the Gymleader so completely that they have no choice other than to give me it!”

“I don’t know, I still think-”

“Ahp Ahp Ahp!” Marcus raised a hand to silence him. “Which of us just won four battles in a row? That’s right, me and Bagon. I’m something of an expert, and Bagon’s a badass. We know what we’re doing.”

“It’s ‘Bagon and I’.” Casey corrected under his breath.

Mark ignored him.

“The rock gym was always first, so we’re going there first- that’s just how it works, trust me, Bagon can handle it.” Marcus grinned and slapped a hand on Bagon’s head-shell-thing. “Roarb is total pushover, and only has like three guys.”

“ Roark got the position because of his dad, and has something to prove. He never takes it easy on anyone, and going in with that attitude will just piss him off more.”

“And I have something to prove too, mainly the fact that I’m better than him.” Mark clapped a hand on Casey’s shoulder with a wide grin. “I think I can handle myself.”

Casey stared up at the grizzled Veteran with awe and wonder, wanting nothing more than to be just free of hesitation and self doubt… Had Mark’s eyes always had a red tint to them?

“You know, typically, Pokemon trainers who are doing the Gym circuit will travel in small groups. If you’re already headed out to Oreburgh, do you think I cou-”

“Nope.”

Mark smiled and pushed Casey out of the way before walking off.

This was his adventure. No one was going to spoil it for him.

-The Dragon King-

Mark sighed as he sat down on a hill at the edge of the city and looked out at the skyline, Oreburgh’s light glinting in the faint distance, and Bagon snoring slightly as he nodded off next to him.

A strange feeling settled in his soul. 

This... this was really happening. A new world. A new chance.

It felt almost as liberating as it was heartrending.

So much of his life, so many tears, so much blood spilt, so much pain, he’d given so much for his country, and now it was gone. In the end all of it had been worthless, and he’d failed every single person who relied on him.

But now he was free. His oath was fulfilled, his duty finally over.

“I served to the very fucking end.” Marcus said as he cracked open a beer, his first purchase with his new money. “When everyone else left, jumped ship, or deserted, I stayed until the end, and I fucking survived. There’s not really much to come to terms with, I already knew- always knew, deep down that we were just delaying the inevitable.”

He raised his beer can up in toast.

“To everything that was lost, and to a new oath.”

Marcus tipped the can back, chugging the entire thing in one go, even as drops spilled down his chin. With each gulp he remembered things from a different world. Battles lost, friends gone missing, and cities burning as nuclear sirens blared.

“My new oath that I’m never gonna let it happen again!” Mark declared as he crushed the empty can in his grip. “I’m gonna become the strongest! To the point that no one will be able to even touch me! And no one will ever take anything from me ever again!”

And in the final rays of the setting sun, his eyes gleamed red.

Giratina smirked from his viewing port in the distortion world.

It was all going to plan.

-Chapter End-

-Arc: Yankee in Wonderland: End-

Writing a Pokemon battle is different from writing a normal fight, since you’re not just dealing with the people fighting but also the trainers giving orders. It’s a bit awkward of a structure, with having to involve four characters at minimum, but I’m getting better.

But with that, the first arc of the story is done! 26k words in almost a week.

The response has been crazy! This is easily the fastest any of my fics have grown out of the gate, which is very surprising considering I have never touched the Pokemon community before.

I hope you all stay with me, and help me grow this fic to completion. Please comment and tell me your impressions, criticism, ideas, or things you think I could do better! I love feedback of all kinds!

See you next time on “Build-a-Warlord: Friendship is (for) Losers”. Because surely nothing bad could happen by pushing away the semi-clingy annoying tag along, right?

*Sips Hot Chocolate*

JOIN THE DISCORD! We have shitty memes, and you can give me your direct input/ideas for the future of the story.

https://discord.gg/PkRSmwc6E9

*Sips Hot Chocolate*

A giant thanks to the generous people who help me write these chapters, and get early access to a them obviously so they can suggest changes and give feedback.

The members of the Shadow Government, who funnel taxpayer funds directly into my corrupt wallet! Long may they reign!

MidnightHydro! (The Mighty!), Eternal Guard (The Emboldened!), Helios (The Honored!), thegodfather (The Great!), 0RB! (The 0pulant!), Rom Hack (The Robotic Housekeeper!), Indyk (The Insatiable Imperial!), Wolfwind01010 (The Wonderous!), Nuckles222 (The Nuclear Threat!) and NickPine (The Nefarious!)

The Champions! Leading the fight!

Nvsoulsborne, ShelDrake, Tom Tat, Gage Donaldson, The Brandonator, Thrawn,  TheButterButter, Twin the Commissar, PrisonDIctator, Adante, and ShelDrake!

The Dollar Army! Marching with honor and glory!

Phil, Eledu, jordan arrow, Blue_port, WiseKitsune, Jac, Alex Estrugo, Jaydon Adams, Elenium935, Nyte, Max Buckner, Spam2Spam, Gavin, GrimDeathKnight, Hamza Abdallah, Indie, Aswin Suthan, SonicDJM, EngineerLife24, drwinter169, CideredApples, Prince of Ruin, SILENGE, Lord_of_Pola, LukasH, Savage Scorpion, Anima, Summers Mori, Slowchoke, Jacob Roy, Seanfrks, Diavolo, and Brayden!

And a special SPECIAL thanks to :

Eternal Guard and NickPine.

Who have both chosen to help after my Bank got hacked and I lost a lot of money.

Thank you both so much, you are my Heroes.

Chapter Text

While writing this story, I constantly find myself going back to my old Platinum walkthrough book that I got from a school fair as a kid, and looking up what type of Pokemon can be found in which area.  I had completely forgotten that Bagon and Ralts could just be found in Sinnoh, thanks to Platinum's additions. That realization, as you can guess, had a major impact on my decision to actually write this fic.

-The Dragon King-

-Arc Start: New World Blues-

-New World Blues: Ch 1-

“Dragon Type Pokemon food- premium brand, long lasting. Water filter. Metal water canteen, two. Easy Raise Tent- bargain brand and I have a coupon. Cheap blanket. Portable electric stove. Solar charged battery. Metal pot. Dried Rattata jerky- value bundle. Various canned soups that were buy one get one free. Flashlight. Pocket knife. And this cheap ass backpack from the bargain bin”

Mark dropped his starter supplies onto the counter of the Pokemart front desk with an odd sense of pride.

“This is everything I need to start an adventure.”

The cashier- a minimum wage teenager, looked up from her phone and raised a judgemental eyebrow at him.

“Do you, like, want something to carry that in?”

“That’s what the backpack is for.”

“Naaah, dude. Like, there’s a reason that’s in the bargain bin, it’s out of style. Get the Sylph Co’ one.” She nodded towards a rack of very nice looking bags with machine parts built into a metal bottom. All of the bags were behind a protective glass case. “They work like Pokeballs, shrink things into energy n’ stuff. They're on sale right now, since all the Trainer schools just wrapped up, it’s only 3k per, a total steal.”

“3k? As in three thousand? For a bag ?” Mark forced out a painfully fake laugh and leaned on the counter. “Lady, I have a hundred dollars to my name. I’m not taking out a loan for a backpack.”

“Oh. You’re one of those .” The cashier lowered her phone and regarded him oddly. “Y’know, going on a Pokemon journey won’t help with whatever midlife crisis you’re having.”

“It’s not a midlife crisis until I start a shitty rock band, now shut up and take my money.”

The teen shrugged and punched in his total. 

“Whatevs dude. Like, live your life and find your way.”

“Oh I’ll find my way alright. I’ll find it right to Oreburgh.” Mark chuckled darkly to himself. “And that badge will be mine !”

And when he won, the reward money would give him the small boost he would need to buy actual things, instead of discount brand soup!

“Fucking Boomers, man.”

“I am barely in my late twenties!”

-The Dragon King-

‘Dear Dawn, I hope this letter finds you well. Firstly I want to congratulate you on your newest Contest Ribbon, I saw the highlights and was very impressed. Secondly I wanted to once again thank you for the work you have done for me. The more Pokemon you catch for me to study, the closer we get to truly understanding the magical creatures that we live alongside.

As you know, you are a trainer sponsored and licensed by my lab. This gives you many advantages such as a monthly stipend, a regional starter, and a Pokedex, but it also means you’re obligated to help me with my research. 

Like many things in life, I strive to emulate Professor Oak, and typically have kept a very hands off approach to your sponsorship. I feel like your rapid progress representing my lab in both the Gym and Contest circuits, as well as all the Pokemon you send back for me to study, has proven it the right choice.

But I’m afraid I have to ask you to break course for me. I’ve been informed that two new trainers in Eterna city, which so happens to be where you are right now, have acquired particularly rare starters- one of which was not thought to be native to Sinnoh.

I would like you to meet them and monitor them for a few days. Both to take notes on their Pokemon, as well as to make sure they haven't bitten off more than they can chew with their starter type choices.

-Professor Rowan.’

Dawn’s eye twitched as she re-read the message on her phone.

“You couldn’t have sent this before I trekked all the way up to the entrance of Mount Coronet, old man?”

She had been walking since morning, her clothes were all dirty, her feet hurt, her hair was all tangled, and she was covered in sweat. And now not only was it all worthless, she had to do the climb all over again in reverse!

She huffed and shoved her phone in her mini-skirt’s pocket.

“These had better be some rare Pokemon.”

-The Dragon King-

The sun was beating down on the earth from above, somehow managing to not dry up any of the mud that seemed to infest West Sinnoh, but just make it uncomfortably warm.

But nonetheless Marcus felt more alive than he had in years.

Here he was! Out exploring a new world! He was like Christopher Columbus! 

The only difference was that everywhere here had already been mapped out thoroughly and settled by modern civilization. BUT the fact this was a genuine new world, instead of a “new world” in quotation marks, had to make him a really close second!

JUST like Christopher Columbus, except slightly worse and less impressive.

If his parents could see him now, they would be proud. Well, they would have a lot of questions, but they would probably be proud.

“Baaaaaag.”

“Oh stop complaining, we’re partners in this, we tag off who carries the supply backpack every mile.”

“Bag!”

“We don’t have the money to buy a fancy tesseract bag! Just think of this as weight training.”

It was remarkably easy to talk to a Pokemon. 80% of the time Mark had absolutely no idea what Bagon was trying to say, but if he just responded with enough confidence no one could tell the difference. It was kind of like talking to yourself in the mirror, you could just vent your frustrations.

“Bagon!”

“Yes, that’s right! You do have the Bag On you. Very good English- er, Japanese? What the fuck are we speaking anyway?”

There wasn’t a direct road from Eterna city to Oreburgh, despite the two being a straight line north and south of each other, mainly because of the rugged terrain and cliffs around Oreburgh. But there was still a way to travel between them, without having to go West in a big loop around Floaroma town and Jubilife city.

Route 206 would take you directly South from Eterna city, and onto the very underdeveloped route 207, which you could use to enter Oreburgh from the North if you’re willing to scale down a semi-steep cliff face.

Naturally, Mark had been interested about the in-world reason why two of Sinnoh’s largest cities weren’t connected in any direct way. The drama-tuber he’d watched on the Pokecenter PC had been more than eager to explain how everything was actually really just the fault of rich people, while playing suspenseful music on repeat in the background and acting like he had solved the crime of the century.

The Cycling Road. It was an “environmentally friendly” haven for bicycle enjoyers, built and funded by Sinnoh’s richest bachelor after he saw Kanto’s Cycling Road and decided he wanted one. He bought the mountainous stretch of land between Eterna and Oreburgh, only to run out of cash 2/3rds of the way through and end it prematurely.

It was as massive as some of the largest American highways, except even more egregious because it was made entirely for bicyclers instead of cargo trucks, and while the interstate roads back home worked to connect a country the width of a continent, this piece of garbage didn’t even make it the full distance between two cities.

The one in Kanto was funded by several companies, sponsored by the Kanto league, and was a massive bridge that arched over the ocean and helped connect the entire region.

“Compaired to that one, this just fucking sucks.” Marcus grumbled to himself as he trekked through the unpaved muddy forest at the bottom of the shallow-ish ravine, while the bright lights of the Cycling Road were visible far above even in the height of day. “And what’s with all the mud!? I know this region is famous for having the great marsh, but come on! When I make it big I’m gonna hunt down that guy and buy this whole route from him! I’ll finish the road, and get rid of the dumb bike requirement, so that people can actually use it as a road.”

“Bag.” The little dragon responded, pretending like he understood what his trainer was going on about.

“Nah, you just don’t have the vision ! It’s gonna be huge! We’ll even pave over all this and put beautiful Wallmart here, just as a big fuck you to all the mud!”

“Bagon!”

A rustling of the tall grass nearby interrupted the pair’s deep and meaningful conversation, drawing their attention as a bleached blue Pokemon stepped out from the shade of a tree and charged at them with an eager warcry. Mark might have found it more intimidating, if the Pokemon wasn’t under three feet tall.

It was a Machop. The third one they’d encountered today, in fact, and looking for a fight just like the rest had. Maybe that was just a thing for fighting types?

“Bagon, use Dragon Breath!” Mark commanded as he grabbed his backpack from his little buddy, and marveled at the wave of blue fire that slammed into the low level Machop.

“Take notes, Bagon. Machop is a purely physical fighter, your best stat is also physical attack, but when you completely outrange someone, always take advantage of it! My home country used to have these big aircraft carriers, and we used the range advantage it gave our airforce, to just ruthlessly bully enemy armies without them being able to shoot back at our main force. It didn’t always work, but even when it didn’t, it made it so that any loss we took was fundamentally way less than the potential damage we could inflict.”

Bagon listened to his trainer, and Mark attempted to poorly explain modern military tactics to his blue lizard, while in the background Machop screamed in agony and frantically rolled around in the mud to put out the fire.

“So, in this situation, you can hit your opponent from a distance, but your opponent can’t hit you back unless you get close. What’s the play?”

“BAGON!” His starter shouted as he charged up another blast of blue dragon fire in his mouth.

“That’s right! Hit him again, with another Dragon Breath!”

“MachaaaaaAAAA! AAAAAH! MACHAAAAAAAA AAAAHP!! ”

Was spamming Dragon Breath a bad habit he was falling into?

Nah, that was nonsense. It was just that it was Bagon’s strongest move, and Pokemon got bonus damage for using moves that were their type. Crap, what was the in universe explanation for that game mechanic? Uh, something about Type Energy? He didn’t even know what that was.

“Whatever, we won, and that’s all that matters.” 

Mark and Bagon took a break to eat some food and rest, checked the compass again, and continued South.

-The Dragon King-

The day dragged on, and the sun made its way through the sky, dipping low on the horizon, and bringing out the beginnings of dusk.

Dusk, when combined with route 206 being a ravine/valley thing that skirted the western edge of Mount Coronet, and was surrounded by massive rocky cliffs full of shallow caves, meant Zubat. A lot of Zubat. He wasn’t even going into the caves and he’d already run into half a dozen.

Luckily they were Zubats, and Zubat’s design philosophy was being weak cave fodder.

“Nice hit!” Marcus said with a light clap as Bagon rammed into the blue bat and sent its frail skinny body flying into a tree trunk, knocking it out cold.

“You’re getting really good at putting your whole body into your headbutt. You just nailed that guy. Keep that up, we’re gonna need that kind of punch for the Gym.”

Bagon barked happily as he ran back to Mark and preened proudly at how well he’d been bullying the weaker wild pokemon. Mark happily rewarded him with a chin scratch, and a piece of jerky.

“You think you’re ready for the Gym?” Mark asked, and Bagon nodded with complete confidence, knowing nothing about what that was.

“Glad to hear it! You see, this guy we’re gonna fight, the Gym leader, his name’s Roark. He might look tough at first, but he’s a total pushover. He’s got a Geodude and an Onix, the Onix especially might scare you at first, it’s a giant ass Rock snake, and both of them have really high physical defense, but their special defense stats fucking suck. I can’t remember the exact numbers off the top of my head, but I guarantee you they’ll roll over after a couple ranged attacks.”

Bagon gave him a questioning look.

“Yeah, as I said, they’re pushovers, don’t worry about it. It’s his last guy that we need to worry about, his trademark Cranidos. Like the other two it has pretty garbage special defense, but it hits like a fucking truck to make up for it.”

Marcus absentmindedly explained as the two continued their march through the tall grass, dense tangle of bushes, and roadless forest of Route 206. The last sunlight of the day filtered through the canopy, casting shadows on the forest floor, while the crisp scent of pine filled the air, and the noises of distant unseen Pokemon brought the world to life.

“Y’all are kind of similar, actually. Short, two legged pokemon, with stubby arms, a thick skull, and a bluish gray color scheme. It’s the same key notes.”

“Bag!”

“Hey, I’m not saying you’re the ripoff, I’m just-”

Suddenly, Marcus froze, his mouth snapping shut, and his heart lurched to a standstill as he stumbled upon a massive brown wall of fur and claws.

It was a Ursaring. A huge Ursaring, its fur a deep, daunting brown that contrasted against the green backdrop, and was covered in deep red that contrasted again against the brown fur. With claws the size of kitchen knives, and teeth curved like a trick dagger, it noisily feasted on a dead Ponita.

Time seemed to slow slightly as adrenaline surged through his veins and his fight or flight kicked in. Marcus took a deep breath and forced himself to push through the fear that had frozen in place.

The Ursaring hadn’t noticed them. That was good, that was great even. And at some point he had unconsciously grabbed his hand around Bagon’s snout, so his starter couldn’t give them away.

This was manageable. It was a massive Bear that looked like it could snap a tree trunk by leaning against it, and that Bagon would have absolutely no way in Hell at beating, but it was fine . Everything was fine , this was manageable. As long as your weren’t being threatening or intruding on their den, most types of bears Bears weren’t extremely aggressive, unless-

“Oh, fuuuuck me sideways and call me sheila.” Mark whispered to himself, borrowing from an old Aussie friend, as he watched a Teddiursa cub climb over the log, followed by four others.

Not only was he dealing with a big bear that would be protective of its food, it was a momma bear with cubs nearby.

Being as careful as possible to not make any noise, dragging Bagon along with him, Mark slowly backed away. And when he had reached what he believed to be a good enough distance, his slow creep turned into a sprint.

-The Dragon King-

It was almost midnight when Marcus finally stopped to set up camp, and he was quite proud.

Even after choosing to make a wiiide detour around the bears, he had still made good time.

This was a trip that the Pokenet had suggested to pack supplies for four to five days, and he’d done most of the legwork in just under one. The terrain was on a general incline, and getting steeper as the mountains got closer, which meant route 206 was coming to a close.

“You know, I’m surprised you managed to keep up with the pace of a military forced march. I figured your tiny legs would tire out, and I’d have to put you back in your ball.”

Marcus said to his starter, who was currently sprawled out on a blanket, while alternating between gulping down a canteen of water and chowing down on Pokefood.

Bagon had the audacity to look offended at the suggestion, but couldn’t tear himself from his nutrient rich meal to verbally protest. Instead he settled on glaring.

“Yeah, yeah, fire breathing dragon that can crack small boulders with a headbutt, and shrug off lightning bolts, I shouldn’t be surprised.” Mark chuckled and went back to heating up his first gourmet dinner of his adventure!

Cheap store brand tomato soup, heated up on a budget electric stove that couldn’t seem to get the broth past lukewarm. 

He dipped his finger in, and gave it a taste.

“Eh.” He made a so-so gesture. “No seasoning, but better than most field rations. I should have remembered to buy spoons, though.”

Marcus let out a yawn as he stretched his arms, and layed back on the ground. He stared up through the small break in the tree canopy above them, and watched as a flock of Stary and Staravia flew overhead.

“I wonder if Starly would taste more like dove or chicken? Hmm… Do you think we could save money by hunting for food while we travel? Do I need a license for that?” Mark trailed off as his mind wandered aimlessly on the idea of bureaucracy involving Pokemon. “Are there any endangered Pokemon that I could get in trouble for trying to catch? I mean, there’s the safari zone, which was kind of like a big nature preserve.”

…

…

…

He sat up and dipped his finger in the pot again.

Still just lukewarm.

“Damn.”

The peaceful evening was abruptly ruined by a terrified scream.

Immediately Marcus’ survival training, and paranoia from living in warzones, had him on his feet and rapidly extinguishing every light source in his camp- the flashlight, the lamp, the portable oven, all of it. Bagon was also up, eager for another battle despite the fatigue of fighting off chump fodder all day.

“Shh!” Mark hushed Bagon’s growl, and strained his ears to listen for where the scream had come from. Very faintly he could hear voices.

“Follow me, step where I step, don’t make a sound.” 

-The Dragon King-

“Oh don’t scream, we’re not gonna hurt you. Besides, we’re in the middle of nowhere, no one’s out here to hear it, anyway.”

Helena scrambled backwards, clutching the bleeding wound on her right arm.

“Get back!” She hissed. “I-I’ll curse you!”

That actually gave her two assailers pause for a moment before they glanced at each other and started to snicker.

“Look, lady, old wives tales don’t work on us.” The man said. “Our organization is at the forefront of scientific knowledge in the entire world.”

Helena cursed. Figures the one time that hurtful rumor about Ghost type specialists would actually be useful, it’s with some of the rare people who bother to read enough to know it’s not true. 

“There’s no reason this needs to be violent.” Her other attacker, a woman, tried to calm her down with the most obvious good cop act she’d ever seen. “Our boss Mister Saturn just wants to meet you, and ask you to assist with some of Mister Charon’s tests. As you know, Ghost specialists are a rare breed, and Fantina tends to pull them under the Hearthome Gym’s wing. Our organization and most of the Gyms, tend not to get along very well.”

“Of course you don’t get along, you’re all insane!”

“Says the Hex Maniac wack enough to use Ghost types.” The man muttered under his breath before the female elbowed him.

“When we found out that you, like us, don’t get along with Fantina, we were excited. But then you ignored all our emails, and blocked our calls, and when we sent someone to talk in person you ran off. Just take a moment to consider things. It’s a great hiring opportunity, with great benefits, top of the line pay, and long term job security.”

“I am never working as a labrat for Team Galactic!”

The two grunts sighed and looked at each other. With their bright blue wigs, futuristic body suits made of comfortable yet unreasonably durable materials, and big neon G’s on their chests, they weren’t even trying to hide who they were! They weren’t even attempting to hide the fact they were a part of a highly controversial, legally very gray (depending on the city), and potentially outright criminal organization.

“Why can’t any of our missions go smoothly for once? What does the new boss even want from her?”

“It has something to do with that weird ruby chain thing that Charon is working on. I don’t know the details but he mentioned that Ghost Energy might be more stable than whatever they're currently using. We need her because no one with a working brain would willingly let themselves be exposed to mass Ghost TE just for some numbers. She’s already soaked in the stuff, we just need to throw her through a scanner.”

“And Fantina has been a total bitch about keeping us out of Hearthome, where she’s pulled all the Ghost Trainers. For fuck’s sake.” The guy groaned. “Golbat keep watching her, and make sure she doesn’t try anything tricky.” He ordered the Pokemon he had out. “How do we get her back to HQ?”

“Don’t worry, my Bronzor has Hypnosis. We’ll just carry her back and wipe her memories when we’re done.”

“You won’t be doing anything to my memories!” Helena hissed, and twitched her hand towards the pocket of her dress that had her Pokeballs, but yelped in pain as Golbat nipped at her.

“You can’t just say no to Hypnosis, that’s not how it works.”

In the following petty argument, where the grunts once again tried to get Helena to come with them willingly, no one noticed a small blue dragon quietly rush out of the bushes behind them.

No one noticed Bagon until he launched himself right into the male grunt’s crotch with a fully charged Headbutt. The grunt was launched vertically in the air by a foot or so, his eyes crossed, and he flopped to the ground with a breathless scream that sounded like air flowing through a broken pipe.

The Golbat screeched in surprise, but quickly recovered and launched an Air Slash at Bagon, which was met by a wave of Dragon Breath.

The female Galactic grunt instinctively reached for her Pokemon, but was completely unprepared for a pair of arms grabbing her neck from behind and dragging her into the bushes.

She struggled and thrashed, frantically clawing at the gloved arm around her neck, but Mark held firm, cutting her of oxygen, before slamming her head against a tree, and repeating those steps until she stopped struggling.

When she was neutralized, he jumped back into the clearing to see Bagon struggling against a Golbat that was clearly much stronger, but the woman Team Galactic had been harassing, was giving commands to a mummy-gold-bug-thing to act as support. (a Shedinja, he was pretty sure it’s called?)

Mark took off in a sprint towards the second grunt, who was just starting to pull himself to his feet with various pained noises. He ripped his baseball bat from its jury rigged strap on his backpack, and put his whole body into a swing that slammed into the side of the grunts stupid looking blue bowl haircut. Mark tossed his bat aside and dropped onto the man, his knee pressed firmly into the grunt’s throat.

Golbat shrieked and, with a flap of its wings, flew over to save its master, but Mark quickly ripped the unminimized pokeball off the grunt’s belt, and returned the Golbat with a flash of red light.

“Aant breth-” The Galactic grunt pawed at the soldier’s leg. “Et ufff!”

Mark strangely decided to oblige, lifting his knee, and standing up.

“Th-Thank you?” The grunt said, slightly confused, as he looked up.

The last thing he saw that day was a black military boot speeding towards his face.

-Chapter End-

Join the Discord to suggest ideas, see my thought process, as well as get access to memes and some spicy Bentai sent by other members.

https://discord.gg/PkRSmwc6E9

Invite code: PkRSmwc6E9

*Sips Hot Chocolate*

A giant thanks to the generous people who help me write to get these chapters out faster, and get early access to a chapter ahead of what's out for the public, both as thanks and because they kind of need to have early access to suggest changes and stuff. 

The members of the Shadow Government, who funnel taxpayer funds directly into my corrupt wallet! Long may they reign!

MidnightHydro! (The Mighty!), Eternal Guard (The Emboldened!), Helios (The Honored!), 0RB! (The 0pulant!), Rom Hack (The Robotic Housekeeper!), Indyk (The Insatiable Imperial!), Wolfwind01010 (The Wonderous!), Nuckles222 (The Nuclear Threat!) and NickPine (The Nefarious!)

The Champions! Leading the fight!

Nvsoulsborne, ShelDrake, Tom Tat, Gage Donaldson, The Brandonator, Thrawn,  TheButterButter, Twin the Commissar, PrisonDIctator, Adante, and ShelDrake!

The Dollar Army! Marching with honor and glory!

Phil, Eledu, jordan arrow, Blue_port, WiseKitsune, Jac, Alex Estrugo, Jaydon Adams, Elenium935, Nyte, Max Buckner, Spam2Spam, Gavin, GrimDeathKnight, Indie, Aswin Suthan, EngineerLife24, drwinter169, CideredApples, Prince of Ruin, SILENGE, Lord_of_Pola, LukasH, Savage Scorpion, Anima, Summers Mori, Jacob Roy, Seanfrks, Diavolo, Brayden, VeryNiceCoat, thegodfather, MonsoonHunter, and Jerome Francis Lucasan!

And a special SPECIAL thanks to :

Eternal Guard NickPine, and MidnightHydro

Who have chosen to sub to the highest “Humanitarian” tier which I put up after my Bank got hacked and I lost a lot of money.

Thank you all so much, you are my Heroes.

Chapter Text

-The Dragon King-

-New World Blues: Ch 2-

“Two new trainers using rare Pokemon? Hm, there was a Boy a few weeks ago that challenged me with an Eevee, but no new trainers have used a Fairy type, let alone a Dragon type against me in a long time. I’d recommend checking the Pokemon center, or the local park, if you haven't already.”

Dawn sighed, as yet another lead dried up.

“Thank you, Gardenia, I'm sorry for wasting your time.”

“Oh, you didn’t waste any time of mine! It’s exciting to see how much you’ve grown since you earned my badge.” The tomboyish Grass Gym Leader waved her concerns away with a smile, and continued rubbing Piplup’s head. “You were brilliant in our fight, and seeing how much potential you had was so exciting. Once you get more Badges under your belt feel free to come back at any time for a friendly rematch. Seeing how strong the bond is between you and your Pokemon, Roserade has been wanting to have a proper fight with your team, where she can go all out without holding back.”

“Eheh, thank you, but I’m not sure…” Dawn blushed at the praise, and fiddled with her hair. “I struggled really badly against your newbie friendly team, I don’t think I would do well against your real team.”

“Honey, you used Piplup and Picharisu, you did great considering the type disadvantages. I know your main focus is on Contests, but you’re a natural at battling.”

Dawn couldn’t help how she sat up straighter from the positive affirmation. 

“I guess I am pretty cool. I’ll take you up on that offer then, I’ll come back when I’m a certified Ace Trainer and show you what a Pokemon Master in the making can do!”

…Said “Pokemon Master in the making” later had trouble convincing her starter to leave its luxurious spot on Gardenia’s soft lap, when it was time to go.

-The Dragon King-

Casey watched Ralts and Hattena roll around in the grass, with a somber expression on his face.

The two were having a play battle that was far more play than battle, and while it was cute, it only served to remind him of his situation. He was a certified Pokemon trainer, who had two amazing starters with him, but he still hadn’t been brave enough to challenge anyone to a battle, let alone leave the city.

He sank further down onto the park bench he was sitting on, and his thoughts turned to Mark.

Mark was, well honestly he had been an asshole who hadn’t even tried to get along with anyone. He was cocky, slow to take advice, and deadset that the way he saw things was the right way.

But Mark was also confident and outgoing. He had his eyes set on the singular goal of becoming Champion, and nothing else seemed all that important to him. What did someone have to do to become that confident in themselves?

“Hey! You! Boy on the bench!” 

Casey looked up to see a girl with blue hair and a white beanie waving at him.

“I need to talk to you for a moment! Are those Fairy type Pokemon yours?”

-The Dragon King-

A few minutes later Casey found himself seated across the table from the girl at a trainer friendly restaurant, where there was an outdoor sandbox for small to medium sized Pokemon to play in.

Though it felt a lot less like a lunch, and more of an interrogation.

“The Eterna Forest? Really? There’s no way you just found a Hattenne so close to a major city. Someone would have seen them before. Are you sure she’s not a stray? Maybe some foreign trainer came through and either released her or lost her.”

“There’s a whole grove, really deep in the forest, filled with all kinds of Fairy Pokemon.” Casey drummed his fingers on the side of his cup of water. “A Floette led me there, after I got really lost. I couldn’t direct you there even if I wanted to.” Which he wouldn’t, just the thought of someone trying to find the grove made him feel all defensive for some reason. 

Dawn’s response was to scowl and take angry bites out of her salad.

“Do you not believe me?”

“No, I do, which is why I’m angry. This is so stereotypical Fairy type, and why studying them is an absolute pain. Rowan wants data, and I don’t want to be sent to walk circles around the Eterna forest, instead of competing in Contests.”

“Uhm, can I ask a question?” Casey tentatively raised his hand. “Who are you?”

Dawn paused for a moment and had the decency to look flustered when she realized she hadn’t actually introduced herself yet.

“I’m Dawn, certified lab trainer under professor Rowan.”

“Ah, a lab trainer.” Casey scratched his neck. Yeah that would explain why she was so interested. “Wait, doesn’t that mean you got a top of the line Pokedex as part of your sponsorship?”

“Yup.” Dawn smugly pulled out her little mechanical red square. “It has a scanner, camera, TE detector, and a database full of info on every Pokemon as well as the Professor’s personal notes.”

Casey marveled at the incredibly useful and incredibly expensive device.

Dawn clicked the side of it and the machine popped open, ready to scan anything in front of it.

“The Professor heard some rumors about a pair of fresh trainers with rare starters, and sent me to go check it out. Would you mind letting me scan and do a quick check up on Ralts and Hattena? It’ll only take ten or so minutes.”

“Sure, maybe you can tell me some tips on how to take care of them. But if you’re looking for a pair of trainers with rare starters, does that mean you’re also looking for Marcus? The guy with the Bagon?”

“Yes! Do you know each other!? Could you take me to him?” Dawn clapped her hands and beamed at Casey.

If she could find both of them in one day, this might not take as long as she was worried. She could scan the Pokemon, do a checkup, take notes, tell them to go visit Professor Rowan, and then get to Veilstone just in time for the Contest there to secure her fourth Ribbon! Having to double back was really cutting it close, but she could still hit the entry window if she hurried!

“Oh he already left town yesterday, he said he was hiking to Oreburgh on foot.”

Dawn groaned and dropped her head into her hands. That Contest wasn’t going to be rehosted for several months. Damn you Rowan, damn you.

“Could I at least get a physical description of him, so it’s easier to pick him out of a crowd?”

“Are you going to go after him?” Casey perked up, this could be his chance. “I-I could go with you, I could help you find him, he and I are friends.” Maybe . “So he’d be more likely to answer all your questions if I’m there with you.”

Dawn took a moment to mull the question over. She’d been traveling solo for most of her journey. The only other time she tried to travel in a group was with Barry and between her self-proclaimed-rival wanting to battle every other day, and being physically incapable of sitting still, it hadn’t lasted more than a week. 

This kid seemed less battle hungry than Barry, and even with the worst case scenario she was only going to Oreburgh.

“As long as you let me get a closer look at those Fairy Types, I don’t mind.” Dawn smiled at him and stood up from her seat. “Come on, let’s get going. If we use the cycling road, we should be able to get there in just under a day and cut him off.”

-The Dragon King-

Mark clapped off his hands as he stood up and admired his work. He didn’t have any real materials on him, so he had to improvise. The two Galactic grunts were tied up with some thick vines he’d pulled off some trees, and he’d used the sturdy laces of his own boots to secure their hands together.

A chunk of his limited savings just went towards buying these new boots and already he was having to pull them apart.

Not exactly the way you were supposed to handle Team Galactic grunts in the game, but it worked pretty well. His fighting tactics would need updating, however. If that first grunt hadn’t panicked from being choked, and reached for her belt instead of the arms around her throat, she could have released a Pokemon to help get Marcus off her.

Getting a battle trained Pokémon sicced on him was something he would like to avoid. He wasn’t exactly defenseless, and could probably hold his own better than most normal trainers considering he was one of the few dumb enough to actually punch back, but something told him going toe to toe with creatures capable of surviving Hyper Beams would be a bad matchup for him- it was just a feeling.

But what was he supposed to do with these two?

A dark something burned in his chest, and his memories shifted to past times, darker times.

There was that Ursaring den back North. An angry overprotective den mother would make short work of the two, and any police investigation would just write it off as yet another trainer death to wild Pokémon attacks.

Or the police would if there wasn’t a witness. He glanced over at the frazzled purple woman sitting a short distance away. But he could fix that pretty easily.

No! He shook his head, forcibly dispelling those thoughts. 

These were civilians . Even the Galactic members were just petty criminals, grunts that stole weather readings from windmill stations, he wasn’t dealing with bloodied soldiers on the other side of a war that had taken friends and family from him.

He wasn’t going to bring his worst instincts to bear on a world that hadn’t done anything to wrong him. Yet.

(Mainly because that would almost certainly wind up with him eventually in prison or on the run from the law. But being a slightly better person, even if for the wrong reasons, was still being a better person!)

Yes, he had a witness he’d saved. He couldn’t do anything incriminating with her watching. Move on to a different train of thought.

Mark gazed to his side, where the woman he’d helped was sitting on a fallen tree log. She had wrapped her sleeve tightly around the gash on her arm, and was intensely watching the blood slowly drip to the ground. 

She was wearing a long purple dress with a dark spiderweb design on its middle. Her hair was a lavender so dark it bordered on black, and the complete lack of care it received was obvious at a glance from all the tangles and knots that caused parts to stick out at odd angles.

She had a pretty face, but any attention that might have normally pulled was redirected to her eyes. Her flat, and almost lifeless, violet eyes with deep bags under them from lack of sleep.

The woman was very clearly a Hex Maniac, one of the few Ghost Specialist trainer types in the games. Her design was supposed to be creepy, and she kind of was, but honestly when you combine her messy appearance with how unhealthily pale her skin was, she reminded him more of a reclusive shut-in than any cultist. Less “blood sacrifices and rituals” and more “ramen, anime plushies, and perpetually stuck in silver tier on some random MOBA”.

“Hey, lady.” Mark called out, causing her to jump in surprise. 

She looked around, to see if there was anyone else he could be talking to, and when she didn’t see anyone she pointed at herself in question.

“Yeah, you, What’s your name and what did these dimwits want with you.”

The poor woman seemed panicked now that his attention was on her, and began fidgeting with the hem of her dress.

“M-My name’s Helena, and Team Galactic has been wanting to do tests on me because I’m a… you know…” She trailed off and added under her breath, almost fearfully, “ a Ghost specialist.”

“A what?”

“I’m a Ghost user. They call people like me maniacs.” She muttered, her voice was airy and reserved.

“Does using Ghost types really bother people?”

She blinked at him, as if he’d asked why the sky was blue. “I use Ghosts. Spirits. Dead things that linger. There’s a lot of superstition about Ghost types, and so trainers don’t tend to like people like me.”

Mark’s eyes slid over to the Pokemon hovering beside her, the creepy bug mummy thing that sat there completely still without so much as twitching. Feeling his gaze, it pivoted its entire body to face him, staring at him from behind the thin film covering its missing eyes.

Mark shivered and thought back to the game Pokedex entries for Shedinja, about how it could steal souls if you looked into the crack in its shell. Yeah, he could get why people might keep their distance.

Helena’s fidgeting became more noticeable the longer his attention seemed to be on her, and she seemed unsure how to continue the conversation.

‘Definitely an introvert. Maybe even antisocial.’ Mark thought to himself before turning his attention back to the two Galactic grunts, much to Helena’s relief.

“What do we do with these guys? Is there a police station nearby? Do you have a phone you can call a hotline for any kind of law enforcement? Is there a, uh, PokePolice number?”

He was fine with whatever got these two off his hands just as long as it wasn’t “let them go and embrace friendship” or something, which was a possibility considering what he’d seen in the anime.

The woman looked at him blankly, her dark purple eyes blank and unreflective in the moonlight. 

“…PokePolice?”

Oh sure, Pokeballs, Pokecenter, Pokemart, those all exist, but “PokePolice” is crossing some sort of line. Mark should have known better than to ever actually use his brain.

She blinked at him slowly, processing the fact he was actually asking for her opinion on the matter, and after a moment of thought she tilted her head towards the tree line.

“Well, there’s a ditch over that way, where you, uh, where you could bury them.”

…

…

…

Helena shrunk down on herself, her cheeks growing red in sheer embarrassment, as Mark stared at her in complete bewilderment. His eyes were so fierce, cold blue orbs of chipped ice, that magically seemed to gleam blood red in the light.

“I-I-I didn’t mean to say that, I’m not a murderer, i-it’s just…” She scowled and looked away. “It’s not like they’re going to get into any lasting trouble, they never do. They have a massive public headquarters in Veilstone City, with their logo on the front, they don’t even try to hide, and yet no one does anything about them! Even if you can get those two behind bars, they’ll be free within a few months, and it will be entirely legal, too.”

“How does that work? If they’re so public, why haven't they been taken down?” Mark asked, still trying to process the child friendly cartoon character suggesting cold blooded murder. 

Maybe there was a good reason people were weary of Ghost Specialists.

“The Galactic Corporation is the legal front of Team Galactic. Everyone knows it, but no one is willing to do anything, because they just have too much influence. The company traces its roots back to the legendary Galaxy Expedition Team, with Cyrus himself being a direct descendant of Captain Cyllene, a national Hero. His family has a lot of friends in Sinnoh’s elite, and is a household name for every Sinnoh patriot.

“But even putting aside Cyrus himself, the company has plenty of strings it can pull. They’re the inventors and patent holders for some of Sinnoh’s most advanced technologies, and help fund the nation’s intelligentsia, such as Professor Rowan- who in turn have plenty of reasons to stay uninvolved. Galactic HQ helped salvage Veilstone City’s economy, and are one of the only things keeping that area afloat other than the gambling rings that have sprung up. They’re responsible for the massive solar panels that supply Sunyshore its entire energy supply. Supposedly they did it for barely any money as a charity, but last time Volkner made a remark about Cyrus, a ‘maintenance problem’ knocked the entire City’s power grid offline for over a month.” 

That… Hm. That actually made a lot of sense. It explained why Galactic had such a massive tacky HQ when Magma/Aqua had been literally hiding under a rock, and it also finally provided a reason for the fucking power outage that kept you out of Sunnyshore until after you took down Cyrus.

Mark scratched his chin, mentally going over all the things that seemed odd in the games, and wondered how much of the game’s “railroading” could be attributed to Team Galactic meddling. Were they responsible for those stupid Psyducks somehow? How? What was the play behind those? How did it tie together with everything?

Helena shuffled in her seat, growing more and more antsy the longer Marcus glared at her.

“Does it not bother you that I’m a Ghost trainer?” She suddenly blurted out. “I thought you would be more superstitious.”

Her question snapped Mark out of his thoughts. 

“Well, I was raised as a Christian, but my family was pretty lax about it, and I never got baptized. So I guess I’m kinda religious, but I don’t believe in voodoo garbage like crystals, puppets, and star signs, if that's what you’re asking.”

“Ah.” Helena nodded, but that was all she said, too nervous to ask what a “Kristan” was.

“Why do you ask? And what makes you think I’d be superstitious?”

“You smell like stale Ghost energy.” Helena answered, and it was the clearest any of her words had been all night.

Well. That’s not ominous at all.

-The Dragon King-

Mark borrowed Helena’s phone to call the police, (normal police, not the Pokepolice) and they were told to stay where they were until an officer arrived.

The moon crept its way across the sky and Helena retreated under the cover of a tree, where she sat with her Shedinja in her lap, stroking its dead head while she hummed a tune to it that made Mark’s skin crawl.

She didn’t sleep, which pushed all of the wrong buttons on Mark’s paranoia and kept him from sleeping. Instead he stayed up doing various exercises from pushups and situps, to jogging around in circles.

It wasn’t until the sun had truly started to climb its way well into the sky, that a blue haired officer Jenny rode into the clearing on the back of her motorcycle. She collected the Grunts, took one look at Helena, and decided to have Mark explain what had happened instead.

But Helena was fine with that, she was more than happy to avoid a conversation. Besides, she’d been working on something else for awhile now, and talking to the officer would mess up the perfect resonance she’d been working on for the past several hours.

Feeling her Pokemon resonate with her, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened her eyes , the ones her Pokemon had taught her to use.

The world was the same as it had been moments ago, yet it was so so different, now that she was looking .

Beedy white eyes watched from the shadows, and distant hollow laugher could be heard overlapping with muffled sobbing, both repeating as if on loop. 

Powerful memories and emotions lingered, the final moments of both Humans and Pokemon in these woods slowly collecting over centuries. Those that she could see were the ones strong enough to linger, but not potent enough to interact with the physical world and condense into a new form, such as a Ghastly, a Misdreavus, or a Duskull.

But she wasn’t here to linger with the forgotten echoes of long dead things, she wanted to get a better look at Marcus.

In this forest, where the sleeping dead watched the flourishing life enviously, there was an intruder.

A sinister monument stood tall, an intangible stake driven deep into the earth, its surface etched with runes of dread and decay. Around this ominous structure, a suffocating miasma hung heavy in the air, thick with the stench of death and despair. It coiled like a serpent, its tendrils reaching out to ensnare any who dare to approach, filling their lungs with the foul essence of corruption. It was a clear warning to anything strong enough to sense it, to stay away and not to interfere.

Something powerful had marked its claim on Marcus, and she hadn’t the slightest idea what it could be.

Had he been cursed by a Spiritomb? Perhaps a particularly powerful Gengar? Or a Dusknoir? There was another type of TE there, one that she wasn’t familiar with, so it must have been a dual type.

Helena shivered as a chill crept up her spine, and a creepy smile crawled its way into her face.

Whatever it was, it meant Marcus was no good news, and she really should just avoid him. 

…

But she was just so curious…

-The Dragon King-

Mark slid down the steep hill that marked the last stretch of his trip, and stumbled into Oreburgh alone, without any tagalongs. He was a solo act, just like in the games! No wannabe Fairy rivals, or any weird Ghost trainers he found in the woods, or any grunts with stupid cyan hair, and he made it in just over 30 something hours since he left Eterna City.

That’s the wondrous magic that just not sleeping could do to travel time. Bagon was sleeping soundly in his Pokeball, though, the little bastard had been stubbornly pushing himself to keep up with Mark, but obviously didn’t have the endurance to do so just yet. He’d get there one day, Mark knew it.

Regardless, he was finally here. Oreburgh. City of dirt, rocks, coal, and other various things that came out of the ground. It was also the city of his first Gym Badge.

A slight problem was that he was poor. He had less than 20 pokedollaridoos to his name, and considering a basic bitch Pokeball was a 100 bucks… yeah, he was kinda stuck at the moment.

Gyms were not made of cash, and from what he had gathered the Sinnoh Pokemon League was somewhat conservative and liked to be stingy about some things when it came to money. So to help cover the reward money, as well as to keep people with no actual right or reason from filling up Gym Leader schedules, there was an entrance fee for the Gyms.

Mark didn’t have a sponsor to pay the entry fee for him, like Ash and the game protags did, and he didn’t have money to pay for it himself, but he did have ideas .

And his ideas were always great, even if no one other than him ever seemed to like them.

-The Dragon King-

Roark hummed to himself as he made his way through the Oreburgh Mine. The sounds of pickaxes and heavy equipment, the smell of coal and earth, it was all a soothing balm on his soul. The mine was an escape from the Gym, his father, and all his responsibilities. Down here things were simple, you could fix any problem with your own hands, and you never had to worry about politics.

He rolled his arms, popping his shoulders, and began jogging towards the back of the mine. The first few levels had long been stripped of anything useful, and were open for trainers to come and wander through looking for Pokemon. If he wanted to get his hands dirty today, he needed to head on deeper.

But as he turned the corner he bumped shoulder to shoulder with a man holding a tourist brochure that they handed out at the entrance of the mine, causing both of them to stumble.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” The man snapped. He was tall, about six or so feet, with blond hair and icy blue eyes. He also wore a beat up green combat jacket, which looked like it had been practically put together from scratch multiple times, and a pair of black combat boots.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Roark apologized. “I haven't seen you around before? Are you from out of town?”

“I’m just seeing the sights, you know. I’m on something of a tour of the region. I started at Eterna- beautiful city by the way, very rich history- then I came over here. It’s uh…” Mark trailed off and motioned his hand just below his face, as if he was trying to will the word he was looking for into existence. “ Interesting . Yeah, it’s interesting here. Definitely a downgrade from Eterna, but I figured I should get it out of the way at the beginning of the list, you know, so I can work up to the more impressive cities.”

Roark’s eyebrow twitched. Fucking tourists.

“Oreburgh may not be as visually appealing on the surface as some of the other cities, but I assure you, there are plenty of great things to see and do here.”

“Really?” Mark asked, doubt soaking the word. “Do you have any suggestions? Important places I could swing by and look at? Any important buildings?”

“Of course! Orebugh has the highest number of entrances to the great Sinnoh underground cave network, than anywhere else in the region. The fossil museum is open from 8AM to 7PM on every day except Saturdays. The Gym regularly hosts-”

“Oh yeah, there is a Gym here!” Mark exclaimed and lightly slapped the side of his head. “It’s not one of the important ones, so I had completely forgotten. Say, it was funded by the great Steel Gym Leader, Byron, from Canalave City, right? Man, now that’s a Gym Leader! I’m a huge fan of his! Kinda sucks that his son hasn’t been able to fulfill that legacy. Forget holding your own against the Elite four, I hear the kid is getting picked on by newbie trainers.” 

Mark trailed off and snapped his fingers a few times, trying to remember something. “Crap, I can’t even remember the guy’s name. What was it again, I think it started with an R… Randy? Rowk? Oh, no wait, I got it! It’s Roarb! Yeah, Roarb!”

“Roark. His name is Roark.” The Gym Leader corrected him through gritted teeth. Then he forced himself to take a deep breath and turn away. He didn’t need a press scandal about him getting into a shouting match with some random tourist.

Mark crossed one arm and scratched his chin with his free hand. “You know you kinda have the same hair as Byron. You’re clearly not old enough or muscular enough to pass as that guy, but you might be able to pass as his loser kid- not sure why you’d want to though. The guy’s not very popular, so there’s probably not any look alike contests for him, but I can understand why. Weaker than all the Gym leaders, weaker than the average Ranger, let alone Ace trainers, the guy was clearly a nepotism hire.”

That stopped Roark dead in his tracks, and had him pivoting right back around to face Mark.

“You sure have some fucking nerve. You come marching into Oreburgh, insult the city, and start talking smack about its Gym Leader, who do you think you are?”

“I think I’m better than the guy who got the job without working for it, because his Dad penned him in. Why? You his one and only fan?”

“I am him, asshole!”

“Really?” Marcus raised an unimpressed eyebrow and sized Roark up. “You’re pretty scrawny for a guy who supposedly gets all rough and tumble in the mines. Is that a PR thing? Something to try and salvage your ego after falling short of your dad?”

“Scrawny!? Challenge me at the Gym and I’ll show you scrawny !”

“Bah, if I wanted to fight you, all I’d have to do is swing up north, catch a wild Machop, and steamroll your entire team. I don’t even have any badges, I’m not even in the Gym circuit, and I could stop you like a bug.”

“Prove it then, hotshot! Come to the Gym so I can wipe that smug look off your fucking face!”

“And pay for the privilege of beating you? No thanks. Real Gym Leaders handle defeat with grace, you’d probably get fussy and refuse to give me my winning money- even though it’s basically just free cash, with how weak you are. Actually, I bet that’s the only reason you’re not bankrupt, is by just not paying the winners.”

“So this is about the entrance fee, huh? Piss poor trainer can’t pay?”

“Pssh, as if.” Mark scoffed and took a step forward, leaning down to get eye level with the Gym Leader. “I’ll tell you what, Roarb , unlike the small-time wannabe Gym Leaders who mooch off Daddy, I don’t deal in chump change.” He lied like he was mother fucking Charles Ponzi himself, as smooth as Kenneth Lay selling Enron stocks to investors.

“If you can beat me, not only will I drop double your entry fee, you’ll prove me wrong and I’ll apologize for everything I said. But when I win, I want double the prize money. Or can you not afford that?”

“Oh I can afford it, because you’ll be the one paying me , asshole. You’re dead !”

Mark’s grin was as smug as the cat that had finally caught the canary.

“Three days from now, Friday at high noon, clear your fucking schedule.” Mark jabbed Roark in the chest, pushing him back slightly, and for a moment his eyes gleamed red. “I’m gonna wipe the floor with your face.”

Hook line and sinker. Why did no one other than him ever seem to like his ideas?

-Chapter End-

A giant thanks to the generous people who help get these chapters out faster, and get early access to a chapter ahead of what's out for the public, as thanks and to suggest changes.

The members of the Shadow Government, who funnel taxpayer funds directly into my corrupt wallet! Long may they reign!

MidnightHydro! (The Mighty!), Eternal Guard (The Emboldened!), Helios (The Honored!), 0RB! (The 0pulant!), Rom Hack (The Robotic Housekeeper!), Indyk (The Insatiable Imperial!), Wolfwind01010 (The Wonderous!), Nuckles222 (The Nuclear Threat!) and NickPine (The Nefarious!)

The Champions! Leading the fight!

Nvsoulsborne, ShelDrake, Tom Tat, Gage Donaldson, The Brandonator, Thrawn,  TheButterButter, Twin the Commissar, PrisonDIctator, Adante, and ShelDrake!

The Dollar Army! Marching with honor and glory!

Phil, Eledu, jordan arrow, Blue_port, WiseKitsune, Jac, Alex Estrugo, Jaydon Adams, Elenium935, Nyte, Max Buckner, Spam2Spam, Gavin, GrimDeathKnight, Indie, Aswin Suthan, EngineerLife24, drwinter169, CideredApples, Prince of Ruin, SILENGE, Lord_of_Pola, LukasH, Savage Scorpion, Anima, Summers Mori, Jacob Roy, Seanfrks, Diavolo, Brayden, VeryNiceCoat, thegodfather, MonsoonHunter, and Jerome Francis Lucasan!

And a special SPECIAL thanks to :

Eternal Guard NickPine, and MidnightHydro

Who have chosen to sub to the highest “Humanitarian” tier which I put up after my Bank got hacked and I lost a lot of money.

Thank you all so much, you are my Heroes.

Chapter Text

-The Dragon King-

-New World Blues: Ch 3-

In the nothingness of nothingness, there was something.

This nothingness wasn’t like the abyss of the distortion world, which acted like a hostile antithesis that warped everything it touched, no, this nothingness was almost as if everything had just… stopped.

Hidden in a gap in time, between the split of a second, the Temporal Tower sat atop mountains worth of floating rocky rubble, slowly floating through a void of endlessly repeating clouds.

The tower was made of deep blue sapphire and ancient gray stone, covered in silver arches. It was not built on normal engineering logic, and if time were to somehow reclaim its hold on the building, it would shudder and tear itself apart as it fell into oblivion- but that wasn’t exactly a concern to its owner.

And far up at the very top of the tower, alone, isolated from the rest of reality, with only the slow ticking of an unseeable clock, Time itself sat upon a throne of its own making. 

The air rippled as a presence forced itself into the pocket dimension, a presence that Time loathed with a passion.

“Sister.” The presence spoke, not even bothering to consolidate into a physical form. “We need to talk.”

“ Dearest sibling of mine, unless the world is ending- which it’s not- there is no need for me to do anything. Especially anything in the same general vicinity as you.”

“Father’s rest has been disturbed, something has happened that goes against His order. Even though he has just settled into slumber, he will wake if nothing is done.” Palkia spoke softly.

“So what? Just let his precious little golden boy fix it.” Dialga scoffed. “The chosen one . The boy Father ripped from the wheel of fate and strung up like a puppet, to be trapezed around the globe to take care of anything Father thinks is a problem.”

“Don’t be mean to Ash! He’s a kind boy, with a good heart, there’s no reason for you to hate him.”

“I don’t hate him, I dislike him, there’s a very clear difference.” Reality around the tower rippled in the equivalent of a god’s exaggerated eye roll. “Father ripped him from my domain. His existence pushes the Time Gears out of sync, which I have to continuously fix. He annoys me. And just to add insult, he’s so caught up in his own little world of delusions and adventure that he hasn’t even realized he stopped aging the day he turned ten! I for one won’t be heartbroken when Father runs out of uses for him.”

“That sounds like you hate him to me.”

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”

“Why must you always be so difficult?”

“Why must you be so annoying? You barge in here and try to order me around like Father- does no one remember what knocking is? I get that realms don’t exactly have doors, but you control space, surely you could make something work.”

“Are you going to help, or are you going to continue to lounge around like a fat cat on your tower?”

“Personally, I like to think of myself more along the lines of a king atop a castle.”

“You’re not answering the question.”

“And you’re being a goodie two shoes. Father isn’t even awake to give orders, and you’re rushing ahead like a tamed dog, trying to anticipate his next command. Just leave me alone!”

“Your pride reminds me far too much of our brother at times!” Palkia scoffed, anger and disappointment covering up the hurt she felt from her Sister’s words. “I am busy patching up the strange blue wormholes that are being punched into our reality from Ultraspace. If the matter on the Human planet has not been at least identified by the time I’m finished, I’ll take it into my own hands.”

Space ripped herself out of Time’s dimension with a dramatic equivalent of slamming a door, that caused reality to ripple.

Dialga scoffed and continued to lounge atop Temporal Tower. If even she did go figure out what was wrong, there wasn’t exactly any hurry. She literally had all the time in the world, after all.

And whatever this “disturbance” to order was, it couldn’t be that important or else they would have noticed it growing beforehand.

-The Dragon King-

Mark sneezed, causing Bagon to protectively shield his bowl of crappy free breakfast across the table. This was the first time he’d sneezed since coming to this world, his usual allergies seemed absent here.

Didn’t the Japanese have a cultural superstition about sneezing? That people were talking about you somewhere? If Pokémon was a Japanese product, did that mean… 

Nah, no way.

Honestly, with Ghost types and Bullshit that was Pokemon canon thank’s to Ash’s travels, there was more of a chance that the medieval European reasoning was true: that his body was expelling demons and ghosts that were trying to possess him- hence the response of “God bless you” after covering some poor dude’s face in snot.

And now he’d gone and lost his train of thought. What was he doing again?

Or right. Reading the news to see if it was as useless and sensationalized as the ones back home.

[SCANDAL! THE EROSION OF SACRED INSTITUTIONS: Unovan Court Makes First Step To Legalize Pokephilia!

In a move that defies centuries of esteemed tradition and threatens the moral integrity of a once great nation, Sinnoh’s top trade partner, Unova, has concluded a multiple year long legal battle that has undercut the very stability of the region! 

Retired Pokemon trainer Melvin Logger has been found innocent of charges of Pokemon abuse, and was given the approval to fight in court for the right to marry his Gardevoir, after the court ruled that her telepathic ability to convey emotions of eagerness did count as “clear verbal consent”- even though it was clearly neither verbal, clear consent, or even in a recognized language.

This scandalous decision undermines the sanctity of marriage, a revered institution that has been the cornerstone of our society. Our noble heritage and time-honored values are at risk, as this legislation paves the way for the erosion of the moral fabric that binds us. It reveals what Unovan’s really are! A culture of perverts, degenerates, and barbarians!

While this may be happening in a region far away from you and I, there is no doubt that will embolden the degenerates who masquerade as “progressives”, Sinnoh could be next if we’re not careful!

Sinnoh’s very own Gym Leader Wake has spoken out in concern about the subject, and the highly disturbing “copypasta” about Vaporeon that has been mass circulating Unovan internet forums just days after the ruling.

It is a dark day for the civilized world, and all who cherish the dignified legacy of modern values.]

Mark sipped his coffee and flipped the page.

[HOENN’S BACKSTAB AND UNOVA'S NOBLE STAND: A Testament to Cultural Honor!

Hoenn promises trade sanctions on Sinnoh, if the region continues to refuse the deportation of Aqua and Magma members to Hoenn for trial. Cynthia and the Sinnoh league refuse to budge on the issue, saying that any criminals on Sinnoh soil will be tried in Sinnoh court, and that no foreign region will be allowed to threaten Sinnoh into doing anything.

In a remarkable display of solidarity and cultural honor, Unova (Sinnoh’s top trade partner, and long time ally) has declared its unwavering support for the Sinnoh amidst these baseless threats of trade sanctions. This noble gesture from our longtime friends speaks volumes about the enduring moral fabric that unites our two great nations. Despite our historical differences, Unova's commitment to stand by Sinnoh in this hour of need is a testament to the shared values and mutual respect.

Unovans are one of the largest minority groups in Sinnoh, and vice versa in Unova, with Cynthia herself even having a second home in the region that she uses as a vacation getaway spot. Indeed-

Mark lost interest and skimmed the rest of the long winded rant about how the two regions were basically brothers, or something, and needed to make a united stand against the backwards regions of the south. You know, despite the fact the same writer had just blasted Unova on literally the page in front of this one.

Man, It doesn’t matter what world you’re in, mainstream news companies are just something else.

Idly he flipped through the rest of the paper, looking for anything of note, but besides a recount of the most impressive Gym battles in Sinnoh over the last week, there wasn’t much.

“Says here some rich tourist lost a rare Pokémon nearby Oreburgh. He apparently bought into the hippie crap over in Unova about how Pokeballs are oppressive, and released his trophy team thinking they wouldn’t run away at the first chance. Idiot. I’d run off if someone tried to use me as a collection art piece, as well.”

…

Sitting in the Pokecenter lobby, eating the shitty free food they offered to trainers. Was this becoming a staple of his life?

“Alright, little buddy, prepare to have your mind blown. Check it out, this is my patented ‘destroy a Gym Leader in three days’ workout routine.”

Mark put away the newspaper to toss his handy dandy notebook on the table, and Bagon eagerly leaned over his tray of microwaved mystery meatloaf to get a look.

There were a lot of boot camp exercises that had been poorly converted to work for Bagon’ tiny arms, such as a wrongly proportioned pencil sketch of Bagon doing push-ups with a wooden plank slid under his top half to bring the ground further up.

Various words had been written in bold and underlined with ferocity, such as “Power!” “Endurance!” “Rage!” And “Leg Day!”

“Baaaa.” Bagon gasped in awe at the art 

He couldn’t understand any of the words, but he really liked the picture of a massive bodybuilder Mark had cut out from the newspaper, drawn Bagon’s head over, and surrounded in fire.

“We don’t have the money to afford a second Pokeball, let alone a Brick Break TM for you, so we’ll have to train to take down the Gym the old fashioned way. You ready to get to work?”

“Bag!”

-The Dragon King-

Mark had until Friday to turn his team (IE: just Bagon) into something capable of taking down a Gym, and he couldn’t cut any corners, because Roark was out for blood. He hadn’t meant to come on that strong, and piss the Gym Leader off that badly, but it worked! That’s all that matters.

“BAAA!”

The large rock Mark had set up as a training target cracked as Bagon slammed into it with a mean Headbutt. But while Bagon bounced back a foot or so, he didn’t seem dazed or injured thanks to the shell-like thing on his head.

“Nice hit! You closed the distance, and knocked Geodude off balance, now finish him off with a Dragon Fang!”

Bagon reared back with a shout and bit down with an abomination of a “move” that was just a Bite and then a point blank Dragon’s Breath.

“No, combine them! Use Dragon power on Bite! We want the same type damage boost.”

Dragon Claw would probably be better, but their attempts at it only highlighted just how tiny and stubby Bagon’s arms were. He’d have better luck teaching Trex boxing.

“Bag Bagon!” The Dragon barked like a pissed off dog.

“It’s completely possible, I know it is!”

“Bag!?”

“Because I remember using it!”

Wait, did he remember using it? Or was he thinking of something else?

Was Dragon Fang even a real move, or was it an item, and he was mixing it up with Fire Fang? Now that he was thinking about it, it may have just been an item with that name. 

Shit, he really needed to buy a phone or something capable of looking stuff up online, because relying on decade old trivia was not working well. Back in Eterna city he’d been taking advantage of public library computers, but libraries were something of an endangered species out in the wilderness.

“Whatever, we’ll come back to this later.” If it turned out to be a real move. “We’ve got all day to focus on nothing but pure gains! Back to physical training!”

Mark pumped his arm and shouted a loud “Boorah!”

“Bag-on!”

-The Dragon King-

“Up! Down! Up! Down! Up! Down! Show me that those muscles work!”

“Baaag!” Came the angry response.

“Come on, we've got three more sets, then we do another lap around the track. I don’t know how you’re so fast with those tiny chicken legs, but I’m not losing to you this time.”

-The Dragon King-

“This is my hand made, premium quality, ‘Get Good’ , obstacle course. Take a long look at it, because this is going to be your life for the next several hours.”

“Bagon.”

“Don’t give me snark, asshat. We don’t have cash to afford actual materials. Trashed traffic cones, fallen tree logs, and big rocks are the best materials I had on hand. That’ll change if we can beat the gym. Now run the course and hit the targets while I throw rocks at you- remember if you miss a target or get so much as grazed you start over. The Gym Pokeom will throw rocks at you, so you gotta learn to doge, there’s a purpose to all this. Time starts now! ”

Whack

“Ha! Lesson number one! Your opponent won’t ever give you a warning before they atta- OW! SHIT! LET GO! I'M SORRY!”

-The Dragon King-

“Geodude, use Rock Throw!”

“Dodge it Shinx!”

From the stands, Marcus watched with narrowed eyes as the poor electric cat lept out of the way of the intentionally slow projectile, only to get cut up by the Stealth Rocks that had been littered all around the field.

Meanwhile Geodude sat behind one of the many boulders on the rocky arena, using Harden to bolster its defense, and peeking out every few seconds to refresh the pseudo-minefield with another Stealth Rock, or to throw another projectile to force Shinx to keep moving around in said minefield.

It was as effective as it was brutal. 

Mark approved.

Not even a full minute later Shinx fell over, defeated, unable to land even a single major hit. The challenger was forced to send in his only other Pokémon, a Starly that had been pulled from the fight earlier, which looked to be on its last legs.

“I believe in you Starly, we can still do this! Quick Attack!”

Within 4 minutes the match was over, and Mark left the Gym with a treasure trove of info on his opponent.

It was somewhat odd how closely Roark’s fighting style mirrored the living rocks he commanded.

Defensive. Slow. Hard hitting. Exploitable .

-The Dragon King-

Time passed, and it was late on Thursday afternoon when two light red bikes were collapsed and dropped into Silph Co storage backpacks for safekeeping, where they disappeared in a flash similar to the light from a Pokeball.

“It’s amazing how much the Cycling Road speeds up the trip from Eterna to Oreburgh. The map said it’d take almost a week by foot, and we managed it in just two days.”

“Think of how much faster it would have sped it up, if they actually bothered to finish it. There’s no way I’m making it to Veilstone in time for the Contest.” Dawn sulked. “Also you’re never allowed to set the pace again! I thought letting you do it would keep me from dragging you around, but you just don’t know when to stop! You’re just as bad as Barry, breaks are important!”

“S-Sorry!” Casey sheepishly smiled and scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. Truth be told he had been trying to push himself so that Dawn didn’t feel like she was being held back by the sick kid. 

All his life he had hardly ever been able to do so much as a light jog without immediately getting winded, but on the Cycling trail he had felt completely fine no matter how fast he went.

‘To be a great trainer capable of rivaling the champion, and to be forever healthy’, that was the deal he’d made with the lady in the deep woods. Did that include not getting tired as easily? If it did then he really had no regrets about it, no matter how odd his payment had been.

Dawn and Casey slowly began making their way down the cliff towards Oreburgh, when a recognizable bob of bluish green hair came driving down the narrow mountain road on a police motorcycle.

“Officer Jenny!” Dawn called out with a wave. “What are you doing out here?”

Jenny slowed down to a stop in front of them and, after a hard look over where she couldn’t spot any obnoxious bowlcuts or gaudy space suits, she let out a weary sigh and waved back.

“Hello Dawn, it’s been awhile since you last came here, your fight with Roark was impressive. What brings you back?” 

“I’m looking for a new trainer that the professor is interested in. What about you? Why are you out here in the middle of nowhere instead of in town?”

“There has been an uptick in criminal activity nearby, so I’m going to be patrolling the outskirts of town for the next few days to make sure nothing else happens.”

Casey perked up, and took his chance to butt in. “Hey, if you’re going to be looping around town, would you mind keeping an eye out for a friend of mine? He’s hard to miss, he’s tall, blond, and has a Bagon as his starter.”

“Tall, blond, with a Bagon?” Jenny tilted her head in thought for a moment. “Do you mean Mister Cross?”

“You know Marcus?”

“Not personally, but he was a witness on the scene of a crime a few days ago, and has been tearing up the area east of town the last two days for his training routine.”

“Wait, he’s been here for two days already!?” Dawn turned to Casey. “I thought you said he was going on foot! That was why we delayed for a while!”

“He did go on foot, he doesn’t have a bike.”

Dawn rolled her eyes in obvious disbelief, grabbed Casey by the wrist, and started marching towards the east fringes of Oreburgh.

“Stay safe!” Jenny waved after them. “And stay away from any strangers with weird cyan haircuts!”

-The Dragon King-

Dawn and Casey turned away from the city and headed East, to the fringes where Jenny said Mark apparently was- how he’d managed to beat them here while on foot was anyone’s guess.

The small signs of civilization that had been popping up quickly all disappeared again, with everything but the old dirt road swallowed up by orangish rocks and the sort of hardy plants that could survive in such rugged terrain at the bottom of Mt Corinett.

The makeshift training field they found was a mess, with rocks broken, trees toppled over, old beaten up traffic cones scattered all over, and most of the grass scorched from dragon fire. Mark and Bagon raced in circles around a crudely defined track, with ropes tied around their waists that dragged car tires behind them.

Despite the fact he was competing with a Pokemon, Mark seemed to be holding his own, and was even pulling ahead on the final stretch, before Bagon bit into Mark’s rope, and toppled him over with a heavy tug.

“Bwah! You fucker, that was a dirty trick!” Marcus scowled and spat out a wad of dirt. “Don’t get me wrong, that’s the right kind of thinking, but I’m so gonna get you back for that.”

Dawn gulped as she watched the man push himself up from the ground and rise to his full height.

He was tall, much taller than her, which wasn’t surprising considering she was barely five foot, but it made his other features all the more imposing. He was lean and muscular, his arms were completely shown off by the sleeveless white top he was wearing, and they were covered in countless scars. Some were small, cuts that didn’t heal evenly and stitches that left a mark. Others were larger, like a particularly nasty burn discoloration on his left hand, and- oh Arceus, was that scar from a bullet hole on his shoulder?!

He rolled his shoulders with a pop, scratched the dark stubble growing on his chin, and swung his gaze over towards them with a pair of piercing red eyes.

Then he blinked and his eyes were suddenly blue, which left Dawn wondering if her mind had been playing tricks on her.

“Hello Mark!” Casey waved cheerfully.

“Hi.” Mark responded much less so. “What are you doing here?”

“ I’m helping with a mission from the regional professor.” Casey lightly bragged and puffed up his chest. “What are you doing?”

“Training. What else does it look like?”

“That’s not- Why are you also dragging around tires?”

“Because it’s a team dumbass. And on team Winners I only have one rule: Everyone fights, no one quits. We all have to pull our weight.” Mark flexed an arm, showing off a partially nasty scar. “That includes the commander.”

“Bagon!” His partner barked in agrement.

No troop worth their salt would ever truly trust a superior officer who wasn’t willing to see combat themselves, and while Mark couldn’t legally join in the Gym fight (that he knew of) he was going to prove to Bagon, and anyone who came next, that he was willing to get his hands dirty and bleed with them.

“W~Wow…” Dawn gulped, uncharacteristically flustered. “That’s really cool. A-And must be a really good way to bond with your pokemon. You’re a really experienced trainer, sir.”

Mark turned to look at the younger girl, and immediately a bunch of conflicting emotions smashed into him like a wave wiping out an unsuspecting fisherman. It was so discombobulating that he had to take a moment to break everything apart and process through it one at a time.

Dawn. It was Dawn. The character. The core member of the Sinnoh cast. One of Ash’s golden trio, and the protagonist to her own game. From the blue Hair, to the purse-bag-thing, to the beanie. Dawn. 

Dawn, uh, Something. Dawn Pokemon? Dawn ‘Mon? No. That was just stupid. 

Whatever, back on topic! Here was CANON, the PLOT, and it was staring him in the fucking face! To call Mark “caught off guard” would be a bit of an understatement, he was completely reeling.

Canon meant team Galactic, and legendaries, and massive fights against near impossible odds.

Did he even want to be involved in the plot? His knee jerk reaction was to say obviously Hell yes , and reap all the rewards of future knowledge (like snagging the Lake Legendaries for free from the Galactic HQ while they were being kept sedated, or stealing the Master Ball from Cyrus for himself). But there was only so much he could take advantage of before the butterfly effect made that future knowledge mostly useless. Plus right now he only had one Pokémon, and didn’t even have a single badge yet.

Drop him in the sights of the main story’s plot before he could prepare, and he’d be a sitting duck.

So logically if he wanted to stay out of the main story, at least until he was ready, he should try to push her away and avoid her. Because his odds of getting swept into something Galactic related dropped exponentially the further away he was from her.

But onto the less practical, and more personal reasons for internal panic.

He couldn’t lie to himself. There had been some very tasteful art of her character (aged up and with much larger breasts) that he’d… studied over the years. Some of that art had been very raunchy , and it was very awkward to see the same face on a flesh and blood person, especially one he had to physically look down at.

Dawn smiled cutely and waved at him bashfully.

Nope. Fuck this. As far as he was aware, he was the last surviving citizen of America, he wasn’t some dipstick numbnuts isekai protagonist, he was going to have some fucking standards.

Mark sneered down at Dawn with an upturned lip. “Wipe that blush off your face, until you turn 18 you’re the ugliest woman I’ve ever seen.”

“What!?” Dawn gawked.

“You heard me. Fuck off.”

With any rose tinted glasses brutishly crushed alongside her childish crush, firmly ripping it out by the roots before it could develop into anything at all, Dawn quickly reverted back into her normal personality.

Obviously she never talked in the games, but in the anime her character had been at least 70% solidified sass, and that seemed to line up pretty well with her real counterpart.

“Well excuse me, I don’t remember asking for the opinion of the ugliest man in the world.” Dawn crossed her arms with a huff and threw her hair back. “And for your information, you’re not even my type.”

“Whatever you say, kid.”

“I’m not a kid! I’m 15! And since I have a high enough qualified Trainers License, I’m legally an adult!”

15? Not 10? Interesting.

“Yeah, no. You can’t just say you're an adult because some bureaucrat marked a checkbox. No one’s an adult until they’re 18, it’s how biology works, or something.”

“Sorry but the law’s on my side. If you have a problem with it, why don’t you try taking it up with the Sinnoh League? I’m sure they’d really value the opinion of someone without any Badges.”

“They’d value the opinion of my fucking fist.”

Dawn raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Casey was right, you are an ass.”

“I didn’t say that!” Casey shouted in his own defense. “She’s extrapolating!”

“And I never said I wasn’t one.” Mark shrugged. “It’s part of my charming personality.”

Dawn opened her mouth to say something, obviously a snarky retort, but stopped herself and let out a frustrated sigh. Then, in a remarkable display of maturity, she held out her hand.

“I'm sorry, I think we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Dawn Berlitz, a lab trainer licensed by professor Rowan. What’s your name?”

“Marcus Cross, rookie trainer with nothing notable to my name just yet.” Well, nothing that anyone here would know about anyway.

Mark shook Dawn’s hand with a firm grip but without squeezing painfully, just like his father had taught him to as a kid.

“What brings you to the outskirts of Oreburgh today?”

“Casey wasn’t lying, we’re here looking for you. Professor Rowan heard about two new trainers with rare starters, and wanted me to give their Pokémon a look over.”

Mark glanced over at the strawberry blond who was standing nervously behind Dawn, fidgeting in his feet.

“I’m guessing the other guy on your list was Casey, who rolled over and let you do whatever you wanted?”

“Yup! So can I get a quick look at Bagon? It’ll only be ten or so minutes and then I’ll be out of your hair!”

“Uh, no?”

“Great, then let’s-“ Dawn blinked as she processed that. “What!? Why not?”

“Look, it's nothing personal. If a complete stranger came up to me and asked to poke at me with medical tools, I absolutely wouldn’t let them, and I’m not gonna let you do the same thing to Bagon.”

“But I’m not some nobody, I’m a licensed lab trainer! I got my Pokédex from professor Rowan, look!” 

Dawn pulled out her Pokédex and flipped it open to show a digital version of her trainer ID.

Mark squinted as the bright screen was shoved into his face close enough that he couldn’t even make out any of the words on it.

So this Dawn had gotten her Pokédex from the professor, huh. That meant she was the Dawn that was the game protagonist, rather than the anime, right? The one that single handedly steamrolls team Galactic, smacks Cynthia, and catches the deity of time/space before getting chucked into ancient Sinnoh by Arceus? 

And he just went out of his way to piss her off, didn’t he? That was actually kind of funny. Well, if he was going to have a rival, might as well aim high.

Actually, if this world was closer to the games than the anime, which version was he in? Diamond or Pearl?

He was pretty sure Bagon was a Pearl exclusive, same with Ralts, or was Ralts introduced with the expanded Pokedex in Platinum?

Mark’s brain sputtered for a moment.

Oh yeah, wait, Platinum existed! That was the “definitive” Sinnoh game that added a ton of lore, and plot, and boosted Cyrus’s word count by something insane like over a triple, and fixed most of the problems in the first two games.

He was probably in Platinum, which meant that instead of fighting Dialga or Palkia atop Spear Pillar, Dawn would-

Falling through an endless abyss, so cold it burned. Gravity pulled from every direction threatening to tear him apart. There was nothing NOTHING NOTHING in any direction. Enormous eyes stared down at him, glowing a cruel blood redredredredRedredREdEdreDRdrdRED-

“Hellooo? Are you alive? You’ve been spaced out for over a minute straight.”

“I-” Mark shook his head to clear it of the fog that suddenly seemed to be clinging to his senses. “Sorry, I was busy being blinded by how high you have the brightness set on that thing. You’re somehow even worse than my mom was with her phone’s brightness, I thought I was being pulled into the beyond for a moment.”

He scowled as he batted away Dawn’s Pokedex, suddenly in a much worse mood, and massaged his aching forehead.

“Jeeze, you gave me a headache so bad I can’t even remember what I was thinking about a few seconds ago. Still, the answer’s no.”

“Please, it won’t take more than ten minutes, and if I don’t do it the Professor will be grumpy with me!”

Mark looked down at Bagon, who shook his head, then back at Dawn who made a pleading face.

“I’ll let you do it for money.”

“Bag!?” His partner cried out in betrayal.

“Money or, better yet, give me some Pokeballs.”

“No way! If anything, you should be paying me for doing a lab checkup!”

“Usually, sure, but this isn’t the usual situation. You hold the service, but I hold what you want, hence I have the leverage.”

Bagon expressed his dislike of the idea by biting Mark’s hand, his teeth punching through the thick leather gloves.

-The Dragon King-

Helena watched the group from a secluded spot behind a tree at the edge of the park, under the nice cool shade that kept her out of the hot sun.

In the distance she watched Mark talk with the two newcomers. He looked somewhat annoyed, going by the wide gestures he occasionally made with his arms. Same with the girl from the way she kept crossing her arms and stomping her feet. But they seemed to be putting up with one another.

Once the blue haired girl started doing something to Bagon with a tape measure and a Pokédex, her hopes they would leave soon withered away.

Helena groaned and slumped her head against the tree.

“How long are they going to stay? I just wanted to ask Marcus a few things…”

A low hum of a motorcycle caught her ear, and she looked over towards the old dirt road to see Officer Jenny come back from patrol, giving Helena a stink eye as she passed.

What was her problem? Helena hadn’t even done anything, but Jenny seemed to get more peeved with her everytime they crossed paths.

Did she think she was going to do something to Mark, just because she’d been following him? It wasn’t for anything nefarious, or anything! She’d been following him around to try to figure out what kind of Ghost type had left that mark on him, but no matter how much she watched him from a distance she couldn’t figure anything out.

Wait, no, that sounded creepy. She wasn’t following him around in a weird way, or stalking him, or spying on him like some kind of creep. 

It was a good “following someone” for a positive end goal, even if Marcus didn’t know she had been watching him- and that was only because she got nervous anytime she would try to go and talk to him face to face.

Oh Arceus, she’d technically been watching him work out the last two days, hasn't she?

Helena made a strangled noise and lightly bashed her forehead against the tree bark in embarrassment.

Shedinja floated down on the top of her head and sank into her hair, easily finding a snug perch in the countless knots and rat nests in her long unkept hair.

Not only was she a grown woman who was being scared off by a couple of kids, officer Jenny now thought she was a stalker and a creep. And knowing her luck, that sort of gossip about her would spread across the Jenny family.

“Someone kill me.”

-The Dragon King-

“You do know the dangers of specializing in Dragon types, right?” Dawn asked as she used a pen to scrape at Bagon’s head-shell, and test if it had any flaking.

“I’ve had to have heard it a dozen times by now.” Mark waved her off. Of course, the fact he’d heard it before didn’t mean he listened to any of it. “Blah blah, something about how they’re rowdy and don’t like to listen. I’ve got it all under control, watch this. Bagon, do a spin.”

Bagon looked up at him as if to say “Really?”

“Do a spin specifically to spite her and her overbearing concerns.”

And with a slight tweak in phrasing, the Dragon was suddenly all on board, going above and beyond just “spinning” and doing a mock of a Pirouette so bad it would have made any ballet instructor weep tears in shame.

Dawn gave him a flat look, but didn’t verbalize any of her thoughts. She didn’t have any experience dealing with Dragon’s herself. Besides, every trainer had their own ways of doing things, and if it worked then it worked.

“If you’re in Oreburgh, does that mean you’re going to challenge Roark for your first badge? I had an easy time thanks to Piplup, but that doesn’t mean he’s a pushover.”

“Beating that Gym is the only reason I’m in this dump of a town. We’ve got it in the bag. We’ve been training hard the last two days and running drills for what to do in different situations. Not to mention we swung by the Gym yesterday evening and watched Roark bully some poor kid with a Starly. We saw the area's environmental hazards ahead of time, and got a good look at the type of Trainer Roark is. I’ve got plans and strategies to counter him, while he’ll be fighting me blind.”

Mark would have liked to see an actual match, but the Gyms charged a $3 entry fee for any match with a challenger that had a gym badge already- presumably because those trainers were guaranteed to put up a good fight for the audience. And Mark wasn’t paying Roarby a dime , granted that was mostly because he couldn’t afford to give away any dimes, but the point still stood.

“Wow, you sound really confident.’

Mark turned to Casey and gave him a shrug.

“I just know I can win.”

And that was all he could really say, because how was he supposed to explain that he’d trounced the easiest Gym in the game dozens of times when he was a kid? Obviously this would be more difficult than spamming a single button, but he already knew what he was dealing with.

“And done!” Dawn snapped her Pokedex shut and stood up with a prideful grin. 

“That was fast.”

“Well, I am a certified lab trainer, even if I’m not a researcher myself.” Dawn preened. “Your Bagon is perfectly healthy, if slightly overweight. I’d recommend only feeding him certified Pokemon food, and not Human food.”

Bagon looked up at her, completely betrayed, and cried out in indignation.

“He’ll work it off, he needs the calories anyway. It’s called bulking, trust the process.” Mark waved her off, much to Bagon’s relief.

“Sure it is.” Dawn rolled her eyes. “Just don’t come crying to me when your team is mildly obese from all the sugar in processed food. Here.”

She pulled a small sphere from her bag’s front pocket and tossed it. Mark’s arm shot up and snatched the expanding Pokeball out of the air, before it could bounce off his head.

“There’s your payment for letting me help you. Now I need to go send this data to Professor Rowan, so I’ll be leaving. Good luck on your Gym battle.”

Casey glanced between Mark and Dawn, then with an awkward wave, followed after the younger girl.

Mark didn’t wave back, instead he stared down at the empty Pokeball as he turned it over in his hand.

A hundred dollars just for a basic low-grade Pokeball. The price for specialized capture spheres, Ultra Balls especially, were just absurd , easily running over a thousand dollars. Luxury Balls were even more crazy, hitting over 3,000 for just one .

He’d desperately wanted a spare Pokeball on his hike from Eterna, but just didn’t have the funds. Why did he want one so bad? Well, it all had to do with route 206, specifically with Wayward Cave.

That was the only practical place in all of Sinnoh to get a Gibble.

The only other place to catch one was, what, Victory Road? Did you really expect any same player to wait until they had cleared every Gym and completed the main story before getting the Sinnoh region’s dragon?

Nuh uh. Wayward Cave cave was the only real option.

The only problem was that during his hike he hadn’t been able to find it. And his battle with Roark was tomorrow, so even now that he finally did have a Pokeball, he didn’t have time to go camp out at the bottom of the ravine, and spend several days looking for the one specific crack in the cliff side that led into a cave.

“I’ll get loads of money if we can beat Roark tomorrow, anyway, so I can buy a dozen of my own Pokeballs if I want.” He tossed the ball into the air and caught it as it fell back down. “Meanwhile I physically cannot afford to lose, considering I can’t even pay the base entry fee, let alone triple that amount for the bet.”

The smart thing to do would be to use this to boost his chances in the battle somehow, but what could he possibly do with it? It was almost 10Pm, he wouldn’t even have time to get to know any Pokemon he caught, let alone actually train them.

“Decisions decisions.”

-The Dragon King-

The moon hung high in the midnight sky, casting a silver glow over the serene forest. Ancient trees stood tall and silent, their leaves whispering secrets to the cool night breeze. A gentle mist curled around their roots, shimmering faintly in the moonlight. The forest floor was a soft carpet of moss and fallen leaves, damp with dew and perfumed with the earthy scent of pine and wildflowers. Fireflies danced lazily among the shadows, their tiny lights flickering like stars fallen to earth. In the distance, the soft hoot of an owl echoed through the stillness, a guardian of the night. The air was cool and crisp, filled with the soothing symphony of crickets and the rustling of unseen creatures, creating a sense of peace and timeless magic.

“BIAHHH!”

This was all abruptly shattered as a blur of brown fur was flung through the air, leaving an arc of blue light in its wake, from the burning ball of Dragon Fire clinging to it.

It crashed through the branches with all the grace of a thrown brick, smashed into a tree trunk, and crashed into the mud with enough force to make a crater.

“Biiii…”

The poor, helpless, and completely overwhelmed Bidoof pulled itself to wobbly legs, only for Bagon to slam into its side, and send it flying into a mossy boulder.

But the poor Pokemon didn’t catch even a moment of reprieve, instead it caught a solid metal object right in its face.

“Bido!” It cried out in pain, and was knocked on its back.

“Huh? What happened? Why didn’t- oh, the ball must have hit it with the back side, hold on.” Mark scooped up the Pokeball again, reared back like a pitcher, and fucking hurled that thing like it was damn baseball.

Bidoof was once again nailed square in the fucking face by a metal sphere speeding sowards it at 85mph, but thankfully it was sucked inside this time.

One wobble.

Two wobble.

Three wobble.

DING!

“My first wild catch! Maybe not what I would have wanted, but that’s still awesome!” Mark grinned as he picked up the Pokeball. “That’s another step to being a real trainer.”

Bagon stomped over, looking grumpy despite their success.

“What’s wrong buddy? Did the oversized hamster bite you when I wasn’t looking?”

“Bagon.” he shook his head, and raised his nose in disdain at the Pokeball Mark was holding.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. This guy’s not going to replace you, Hell, he’s not even a real team member. You’re giving the HM mule way too much credit. Think of this one as strategic fodder. We need it to carry specific moves that you can’t learn like Cut, Rock Smash, Surf, Rock Climb, and stuff.”

Marcus grinned and held up the Pokeball, its cold metal surface glinting in the silver light of the moon.

“You are now Bidoof1, manual laborer of team Winners. That way I can tell you apart in case I need to get a Bidoof2 or a Bidoof3.”

Bagon looked like he still didn’t understand, but shrugged and went along with it, satisfied that his position wasn’t being threatened.

Far far away in the Distortion World, the failed usurper also didn’t get it.

Giratina experienced what the mortals called a “headache” for the first time in his life as he struggled to understand what he was seeing in the materium. HM mule? What in the world was his champion talking about?

-Chapter End-

You know you have a story with some good potential on your hands, when your characters start writing themselves.

Bidoof 1. 

That- I just- bruh.

A “real life” HM slave is both not part of the end team comp, and totally fucked up. But damn, that’s kinda funny, I’m not gonna lie.

Mark, you’re not in the game, you don’t need HMs buddy. And even if you did, they got rid of them in the later games. Haha, I was laughing to myself in bewilderment the entire time writing that scene. I haven't read many Pokemon stories, but none of the few I have included an MC nabbing an HM slave.

I mean, hey, nothing says gen four like needing six of your party’s 24 move slots (a quarter of them) for HMs to get through victory road.

*Sips Hot Chocolate*

Did you know Dawn’s last name is “ Berlitz” according to the manga? Because I didn’t know that. Thank you random internet trivia posts, this information will not improve my life in any meaningful way.

Now, I know I’ve said this a dozen times by now in other authors notes, but here it is again for this story. I’m not a super big fan of OCs. What’s the point of writing fan fiction if you're not writing fiction about the thing you're a fan about? (Well, I write it to practice and make my writing better for my actual books, but ignore that)

So other than Mark (the protagonist) and Casey (the rival), I’m not going to be using many, if any, OCs. And definitely not any major ones.

Helena’s an odd case because she’s technically an official character, and one of the only named hex maniacs, but she’s such a side character I doubt anyone knew she existed. I didn’t know she existed until I stumbled on her page in Bulbapedia. Either way, other than her, I’m going to also try to keep “unknown” characters to a minimum, since with how absurdly large the Pokemon canon is, some of them might as well be OCs to readers with how obscure they can be.

But I needed at least a few pieces that weren’t tied down to any predetermined specific role by canon. You know, to help maneuver the plot in a direction that’s not just a copy of the game’s story. Granted the vast majority of that will be via Mark both directly and indirectly, but still the point stands.

*Sips Hot Chocolate*

A giant thanks to the generous people who help get these chapters out faster, and get early access to a chapter ahead of what's out for the public, as thanks and to suggest changes.

The members of the Shadow Government, who funnel taxpayer funds directly into my corrupt wallet! Long may they reign!

MidnightHydro! (The Mighty!), Eternal Guard (The Emboldened!), Helios (The Honored!), 0RB! (The 0pulant!), Rom Hack (The Robotic Housekeeper!), Indyk (The Insatiable Imperial!), Wolfwind01010 (The Wonderous!), Nuckles222 (The Nuclear Threat!) NickPine (The Nefarious!), and VidDav FerDeL (The Villainous!)

The Champions! Leading the fight!

Nvsoulsborne, ShelDrake, Tom Tat, Gage Donaldson , Thrawn, PrisonDIctator, and Adante!

The Dollar Army! Marching with honor and glory!

Phil, Eledu, Blue_port, WiseKitsune, Jac, Alex Estrugo, Jaydon Adams, Elenium935, Nyte, David Phan, Max Buckner, Spam2Spam, GrimDeathKnight, Hamza Abfallah, Twin the Commissar, thegodfather, Indie, The Brandonator, Aswin Suthan, wGLeblanc, SonicDJM, EngineerLife24, CideredApples, Prince of Ruin, SILENGE, Lord_of_Pola, DerHochi, Savage Scorpion, Anima, Summers Mori, Jacob Roy, Diavolo, Brayden, Ecos920, VeryNiceCoat, Jerome Francis Lucasan, and James Clifton!

And a special SPECIAL thanks to :

Eternal Guard, NickPine, MidnightHydro, and VidDav FerDeL!

Who have chosen to sub to the highest “Humanitarian” tier which I put up after my Bank got hacked and I lost a lot of money.

Thank you all so much, you are my Heroes.

Chapter Text

-The Dragon King-

-New World Blues: Ch 4-

“How do Pokemon moves work?”

Dawn paused at the question, her brain turning in circles as she processed it.

“…What?”

Marcus sat down across from her at the Pokecenter table, and threw his arm back over the spine of the chair.

“You’re a lab trainer or whatever, right? So tell me how Pokemon moves work.”

Dawn rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and blinked at him a couple times, she had just woken up, and wasn’t alive enough to deal with this kind of braindead conversation.

“…What?”

“Are you going to be helpful, or are you going to just continue to silently judge me for being a shit student, because I can go ask someone else for a potentially wrong answer.” Mark scowled at Piplup, who was giving him a ‘are you serious’ look from his prized spot in Dawn’s lap. “And don’t look at me like that, you blueberry bowling pin.”

“No, I’m not- it’s- I just mean-“ She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Didn’t you pass trainer school?”

“I did.”

“Then you should know that Pokémon draw on a power known as TE. Type Energy. It’s the basics of battling and the study of it has directly led to a lot of our most advanced technology.”

“Yeah, mystical power, wishy washy, vague semi-magic system to wave away the annoying scientific objections that get in the way of cool fight scenes. I get that. I’m asking about it in more detail.”

Mark pointed out the window they were sitting next to, and Dawn followed his finger to see Bagon terrorizing a poor Bidoof on the lawn outside.

“How come the brown rat can learn Rock Smash from a TM but Bagon, who can easily break rocks with a good enough Headbut, for some reason just can’t?”

“Type Energy comes in, well, different types. Different Pokémon naturally produce certain kinds of it, hence the type system, and aren’t naturally well attuned to other kinds. Normal Type is called that because it’s the most basic and malleable of all the TE, and so Normal type Pokemon typically have the easiest time learning and using other kinds of TE.”

“Right…” Mark said in a tone that told Dawn he really didn’t get why it was so important.

Dawn’s eyebrow twitched as she watched Mark quickly lose interest and instead watch his Pokemon out the window. Outside Bagon was working to improve his Ember by terrorizing Bidoof1 with it.

Oh, I’m sorry, was her explanation of basic science not interesting enough? She’d like to see him try to make explaining the equivalent of basic math fun to an adult.

“Do you know why most top trainers tend to wind up specializing in one main type? It’s because of TE. Having a large pool of TE all in the same spot works as an amplifier of sorts, as Pokemon soak it up they can grow faster than normal, and even be pushed to evolve ahead of time since they don’t have to generate all of the fuel for it themselves.”

“Oh, now that’s useful to know.” Mark hummed and tapped his fingers on the table. “Is there anything I can do to make it easier for Bagon to learn moves that wouldn’t usually be a Dragon type’s forte?”

“Try to find a move of that type that he can learn, either naturally or by TM, then practice it consistently to build a familiarity with the Type Energy. Expanding from there will come naturally. Pokemon are really adaptable, and you would be amazed at what they can learn to do with enough determination. When Professor Rowan told me, I didn’t believe the move pools that his Pokemon had, until he showed some of them off outside.”

“Okay, so I could, hypothetically, teach Bagon a TM for Rock Smash by getting him familiar with other fighting moves?”

“Hypothetically yes. But pushing a Pokemon’s move pool to its true limits takes years of training and a deep understanding of how Type Energy works.” Dawn answered, happy to show off the knowledge she’d gotten from Professor Rowan. “Wait, hold on, I thought you were broke! How did you get a TM for Rock Smash?”

“I didn’t.” Mark admitted grumpilly. “There’s supposed to be a hiker guy in a tunnel West of town, who I could talk to about rocks until he gave me one, but I just couldn’t find him.”

Dawn stilled, her cup of water frozen an inch from her lips.

That… that had been exactly how she’d gotten her copy of Rock Smash. It had been by pure luck, and was the highlight of her week at the time. How in the world did Mark…?

“What makes you think someone would just give away a TM for free?” She asked wearily.

“The knowledge I hold would make you question reality.” Mark said in a dramatically sarcastic voice, before standing up with a stretch. “Besides, you wouldn’t believe me anyway. Thanks for the info, but I gotta go stop Bagon using Bidoof1 as a target dummy for his Ember. We need everyone at 100% for the Gym match later.”

Dawn watched him go with narrowed eyes and an odd feeling in her gut.

-The Dragon King-

Noon came quickly, and with it came Marcus’ Gym battle.

Not a ton of people had come to watch the match- this was a no badge challenger after all, but considering it was almost thrice as many as usually came to see these “low power” matches, it was clear that gossip about Mark and Roark’s spat had made its rounds.

At the very top of the bleachers, as far away as you could get from the other spectators, a certain Hex Maniac sat alone, eager to see if the mark she had seen on Marcus would impact the battle at all.

Further towards the front Dawn sat, chewing some gum as she scrolled through her Pokédex. Piplup was sleeping in her lap, the prideful penguin completely uninterested in the world around him.

Next to her was Casey, fidgeting nervously at all the people around, and easily flustered by the occasional fans that came over to say hi to Dawn- who they had seen in the Contest circuit.

A League licensed referee, chosen from a different city so as to be unbiased towards the Gym leader, took her place on the referee stand that overlooked the battlefield, and called for the battlers to get in position.

“For our first, and only, scheduled match for the day, we have Oreburgh’s very own Gym Leader, Roark Hyouta taking the field, and challenging him will be the aspiring Pokemon Trainer, Marcus Cross.”

The two trainers took position on their stands at either end of the arena, and Mark took a moment to look it over again. It was somehow well maintained despite being a dirt field with tons of medium to large rocks on it, which could be used as cover by any creature looking to hide or avoid incoming attacks.

“Can both sides send out their starting Pokemon.” The ref called out, but the way she said it made it clear it was a demand, not a question.

“Go! Geodude!”

“Fuck ‘em up Bagon!”

The two Pokemon materialized in flashes of light, and immediately started glaring at each other.

“The rules are Gym standard, and are as follows: both battlers will be allowed up to three Pokemon, disqualification will occur at knockout, tap out, out of bounds, or rendered at the discretion of the referee.”

As she was taking, a Kadabra materialized from a Pokeball on her belt and began meticulously casting a Light Screen in front of the stands. It was a Sinnoh League standard safety procedure to protect the audience so that the fighters wouldn’t have to worry about going all out. 

The ref lifted her arm into the air and swung her hand down.

“BEGIN!”

“Geodude, fall back and use Stealth Rock.”

“Don’t fucking let him!”

Just like in the battle Mark had watched the other day, Roark’s Geodude immediately tried to set up a Stealth Rock hazard to hinder enemy movement and turn Mark’s side of the arena into a minefield for the entire match.

But they had planned for this, and as soon as the ref’s hand came down, Bagon had already started rushing towards Geodude at top speed. The living rock was forced to abandon the move it was charging up, to avoid a gout of hastily aimed dragon fire, and side stepped right into the path of a ramming speed Headbut that sent both Pokemon reeling back.

“YEAH! Fucking blitz him! Point blank Dragon Breath, don’t let up for even a second!”

The audience “oohed” and several people whistled, as Bagon began laying into Geodude, surprised but happy about the opening tone of the match. The high energy fights were always the most fun to watch, after all.

“Geodude, knock him off you with Rock Smash!”

“Backstep out of range, then spring back forward with Headbut!”

But Bagon, rather than giving up his “momentum” to let Geodude even think of having a good attack, disregarded Mark’s order. Instead he lowered his head, and willingly took the hit on his armored helmet for the opportunity to get off yet another point blank Dragon Breath.

Roark clicked his tongue as he watched his Pokemon take another nasty hit, Marcus was running away with the match by exploiting Geodude's lack of speed and the fact his defense was mostly physical, rather than against Energy or Psychic attacks, and he made a snap decision.

“Geodude, return!”

Roark raised his Pokeball, and activated the return function, shooting out a beam of light at Geodude.

But Bagon, already right next to Geodude, slammed into the rock with a full bodied Tackle, and managed to shove him out of the way of the Pokeball’s beam.

Roark’s eyes went wide in shock and he looked over to the Referee, who just shrugged. It wasn’t exactly good sportsmanship, but there wasn’t a rule against it.

Geodude was also shocked, and was so caught off guard that he wasn’t able to stop Bagon clamping down onto his arm with a Bite, lifting him into the air, and slamming him down into the ground.

“Yeah baby! Perfect! Just like we practiced! No fucking mercy!”

Mark’s bloodthirsty cheers snapped the Gym leader out of his stupor, but by them it was already too late.

Bagon stomped down on Geodude’s head, pinning him in place as he took a deep breath and let out the largest stream of Dragon Breath he could manage, directly into the Rock type’s face.

“Geodude is unable to battle.” The ref called as Bagon stepped off the steaming rock that was glowing red from the heat. 

“Let’s fucking GO!!” Mark shouted, causing Bagon to perk up in pride and try to hide how hard he was breathing. “That was fucking sick ! You were like Godzilla shotting fucking lazer beams into the core of the earth!”

Numbly Roark returned Geodude with the Pokeball he already had in his hand.  What was… everything had happened so quickly, how-? He shook his head and pulled himself together.

“So that’s your plan, huh? Play to the fact that Rock Pokemon are slow, and go full throttle from the get go to put me on the back foot?”

Across the field Marcus just shrugged with a smug grin on his face, that made Roark’s blood boil.

“Rock types are more than just physical defense, they’re more than just walls, so if that was your only plan, then you’re done for.”

“I dunno Roarb, you’re talking pretty grand for someone who just got suh-macked .”

Roark scowled and ripped his next Pokeball off his belt, one that was even faster than Bagon despite being a Rock type.

“This ends here, go Cranidos!”

Mark raised an eyebrow as Roark’s dinosaur materialized on the field.

“Cranidos already?”

He’d been expecting Onix as the second Pokemon, then Cranidos as the third, like in the games. But he supposed it didn’t really matter, the plans he’d made to counter each of them didn’t need to be done in any particular order, something Bagon was already proving.

The small Dragon had turned around and started booking it towards the edge of the arena even before the Fossil could fully materialize.

“Bagon, tab out, I’m withdrawing you.” Mark said loudly just to announce it to the ref rather than as an order, Bagon was already mid jump onto his platform at that point. 

“For my next trick, I summon Bidoof1!”

The nickname raised a few eyebrows from the audience and ref, and raised even more when Mark kept using it, clarifying that it wasn’t a slip of the tongue.

The short and slightly overweight rodent landed on in the arena with shaking legs, sweat dripping down its face, and an expression that told in a million unspoken words just how out of its depth it was feeling.

“Bidoof1 prepare your ultimate move! Your most destructive force!” Mark shouted as he pointed ahead dramatically. “Use… Leer !”

Bidoof puffed up, and glared at Cranidos, it wasn’t scary at all, and looked more like an angry plush toy, but being scary wasn’t what caused the move to do anything, that honor went to the wave of Normal TE that washed over Cranidos and soaked into him.

Naturally he wasn’t going to just sit there and take that, so the fossil Pokemon pawed at the ground, lowered his head, and charged.

“Full ramming speed, and knock Bidoof out with Take Down!”

“Jump to the side when he gets close, and uh, use Leer again.”

After his over the top intro, which was more for fun than anything, Mark seemed to lose interest in the match, not even reacting when Bidoof1 got clipped by the attack and was sent spinning through the air.

“Come on, use Leer again. Yep, there you go.”

“Zen Headbut!”

“Try to dodge it and use Leer again.”

The high tempo match set by Bagon’s opening quickly turned into something… else.

“Leer.”

“Leer.”

“Leer.”

Marcus gave the same blunt command over and over until the word started to lose meaning. 

“Leer.”

“Leer.”

Meanwhile his Bidoof clumsily dodged some (and face tanked most) of Cranidos’ attacks until the poor thing collapsed to the ground, beaten to a pulp, and unable to stand.

“Can we get another Leer, buddy?”

His response was a pathetic groan as Bidoof’s eyes spun and foam dripped from her mouth.

“I’ll take that as a no. Bidoof1, return.” Mark recalled Bidoof1 before the judge could call her out, and strangely, rather than just sending Bagon back in, he recalled him into his ball as well. 

“Bagon, go wreck his face!” 

Mark reared back and tossed Bagon’s ball into the air, really high up into the air, to a height that wasn’t out of bounds only because Flying type Pokemon existed. When the orb popped open and Bagon materialized, he was suspended almost at the height of the ceiling, and only had a few moments to gather his bearings before gravity dragged him downwards in a freefall.

Roark watched Bagon fall from the ceiling in complete bewilderment, what in the world was this guy doing? The only possible advantage to putting a Pokemon up that high would be to- Roark’s eyes widened and he shouted out to Cranidos, but it was already too late.

“Bagon! Aerial bombardment! Use Dragon Breath!”

Bagon, now with a clear and completely unobstructed view of the entire field, took a deep breath and sprayed an indiscriminate stream of Dragon Fire.

There was nothing Cranidos could do, he wasn’t a ranged fighter, and couldn’t take cover behind any rocks because of the angle of the attack.

The entire arena was covered in a stream of Dragon Breath, leaving the floor smoldering with blue flames, and Cranidos was blasted again and again and again and again.

Bagon managed to fire off six attacks before he hit the ground. The first turned the rocky area into a temporary environmental hazard, the second was a near miss, but the next four were direct hits on the fossil Pokemon.

Bagon’s attack even provided enough counter force to slow him down and give a controlled-ish landing, which was an unexpected boon.

Mark issued orders, telling Bagon to stand back and catch his breath while providing cover fire to keep Cranidos off balance, but Bagon wasn’t having any of that. Drunk on the thrill of battle, the novel experience of skydiving, and the taste of imminent victory, the Dragon rushed forward with a battle cry.

“Cranidos, quick! Use his momentum against him! Take Down!” Roark saw the opportunity and ordered a counter attack, desperate for anything to pull the rapidly devolving situation back into control.  The living fossil roared and charred forward, uncaring how every step on the blue embers smoldering on the ground hissed angrily and burnt into his feet.

“Shit, counter that fucker with a Headbut of your own!”

The two hard headed Pokemon slammed into each other, making a shockwave that kicked up rocks all around them, and staggered backwards.

Immediately Roark knew something was wrong, Cranidos had taken much harder hits than that before and been perfectly fine.

“The Leers!” He cursed under his breath. The air drop stunt had distracted him! “Cranidos get away and use Harden! Quickly!”

“Bagon, he’s open! Use your special move! Dragon Fang!”

Wait. Dragon Fang??

“WHAT!?”

Gasps rippled through the crowd, Dawn was suddenly at full attention, and Roark’s eyes ballooned. A new move? You almost never saw new moves deployed for the first time outside of Championship and Ace battles. It was the type of thing that the best trainers in the world spent years working on to keep as a hidden ace move for their shot at true greatness!

To make a new move before even earning his first badge, this trainer was a mad man, a lunatic, a genius, a prophet even!

How could this possibly-

Bagon eagerly surged forward, sinking his teeth into Cranidos’ neck with a nasty Bite, and then hit him with a point blank Dragon Breath.

-The Dragon King-

“There’s going to be an empty Elite Four seat soon.”

Roark looked up in shock at his father sitting across the table.

“Is everything okay? No one’s hurt, right?”

“It’s nothing like that. Delva has admitted the stress of the job is impacting her health, and told everyone that she plans to retire to spend more time with her family.”

“That’s… wow.” Roark sat back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair. 

Being an Elite Four member wasn’t just the dream of countless trainers, it was THE dream. A high ranking, highly respected, and well paying job at the very top of the Sinnoh League, with access to the very best training facilities for your Pokemon, that also happened to be the perfect position to try to become Champion from.

And that was if you even wanted to make a play for Champion at that point. An EF position was just inherently more stable than that of a Champion, came with a fraction of the stress, and still had comparable power and influence.

Considering the job was defacto for life, you could count on one hand that amount of times you would see a region’s Elite Four change during your lifetime.

“Who’s Cynthia nominating? It’s Volkner, isn’t it?”

It would make sense, the Sunyshore Gym Leader had been the strongest of all the Gyms for a long time now, and Volkner was a menace on the battlefield. But Byron shook his head no.

“Volkner has too much… Let's just call it baggage. Same with Mayleen. Gardenia’s too soft, Candice is too inexperienced, and Wake just isn’t interested. Meanwhile Fatina has spent decades entrenching herself in Hearthome City, so she’s not willing to relocate.”

“That just leaves you and Flint.”

“You’re right.”

“Wow, uh, congratulations then.”

Byron laughed, seeming to find something Roark said funny. 

“Maybe save your congratulations to the guy who actually got the job.”

“Wait, you don’t mean-”

“That’s right, Flint is the new Fire Type Specialist of the Elite Four. Well, he will be in a month or so when Delva announces her retirement and the League votes him in, anyway.”

Raork was struggling to understand the decision.

Having Flint as the Fire Type Gym Leader made sense. It made sense because in Gym battles he’d only be using 4 or so Pokémon, and he was expected to train up entire new teams to use against trainers with fewer badges.

Having Flint as the “Fire Type Specialist” of the Elite four, where they were fully expected to put their all into every fight and use their real teams, didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense because most of Flint's original team wasn’t fire Pokémon!

“Why was he picked over you?”

“Because I turned it down.”

“What?? WHY!?”

Byron hesitated and scratched his beard.

“Cynthia… pulled me aside and asked a favor of me that would cost me a lot of my political good will. We talked about it, and I eventually decided it was a good idea to go through with it. With Flint becoming an Elite Four member, that means there’s going to be an open Gym position in Oreburgh soon. I’m going to be putting all my weight behind getting a candidate of my choosing approved, and it’s probably going to cost me a lot of the favor’s I’ve saved up over the years.”

“Your own candidate?” Roark furrowed his eyebrows and tried to think of who his Father might try pushing through. 

He’d been busy on an expedition to map out the great Sinnoh cave network over the past year, and hadn’t paid any attention to what trainers his Dad was keeping employed in his Gym. 

“Who are you thinking? Roxy? Are you still working with Melvin?”

Byron stared at his son for several long seconds, conflict warring behind his steely expression.

“I chose you, Roark.”

“Oh. Me. Of course.” Roark nodded. And then the words actually registered. “Wait, ME!? WHY!?!”

“Because I can trust you.”

“I just- I don’t get it.” Roark shook his head in exasperation as he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not a great trainer, I don’t have the talent for it. I only started the Gym circuit because that’s what you expected me to do, but even then, no matter how hard I tried, you never had any sort of real belief in me. ”

“Roark-”

“Wait a minute. Mayleen and Volkner, Sunnyshore and Veilstone, baggage. This is about Cynthia’s stupid conspiracy, isn’t it!? This is all just to keep the Galactic Corp from getting any League positions! You’re worried they’ll manage to weasel whoever replaces Flint, and get a third Gym leader under their influence- so you want someone under YOUR influence instead!”

“Roark, listen.” Byron scolded in an iron tone that left no room for disagreement. “I have done my best to keep you isolated from the politics and power struggles that come from being in the League. Things are much more complicated than you know, but I need someone I can trust to have my back.”

But Roark was hardly listening anymore.

His father had sold out his shot at becoming an Elite Four member to give him a spot they both knew he didn’t deserve.

-The Dragon King-

Roark watched in numb dread as his partner Pokemon, weakened by dozens of status moves by that damned Bidoof, wobbled and fell backwards.

“Cranidos is unable to battle!” The referee shouted and blew her whistle, 

“Oh.” Dawn plopped back down in her seat. She hadn’t realized she’d stood up in the first place. “That’s not a new move. Dragon Fang doesn’t exist, he’s just a dumbass.”

“That’s Mark for you.” Casey sweatdropped and scratched the back of his head. “But it worked, and that’s the only thing he cares about.”

Cranidos disappeared as he was recalled to a shaking Pokeball that Roark was holding in an iron grip.

“Come on, buddy, just toss out Onix so we can wrap this up and get everyone on with their day.” Mark called out, trying to goad him even further into irrationality.

Roark ground his teeth so hard he could practically feel them chipping.

“Or, I mean, you could just toss in the towel now and save us all the time.”

Mark, of course, was oblivious to both Roark’s internal conflict and his flashback. He was in a pretty good mood, not even paying attention to the field as he yawned and rolled one of his arms to pop his shoulder. Cranidos had been his biggest worry, and using Bidoof1 as sacrificial fodder to stack debuffs had worked like a charm.

It wasn’t nearly as effective as having an actual fighter would have been (like, for instance, a Gibble), but for the low low price of selling out Bagon’s dignity to being poked and prodded in uncomfortable places, so he could get a Pokeball, it had been well worth the investment.

Investment, hmm? Mark scratched his chin and looked up at the ceiling in thought.

“-nd don't think-! HEY! Pay attention! Don’t ignore me! The match isn’t decided yet!”

Mark blinked and looked over at Roark. “I'm sorry, what were you saying?” He asked genuinely not having heard him. “I wasn’t paying attention, I was thinking about what to do after this. Pokeballs are expensive and I'm still not sure how much of my prize money I want to allocate to that.”

“You- You- !”

He wasn’t paying attention because he was thinking how he was going to spend his prize money !?

Roark’s hand drifted off the third Pokeball he had on his belt, and drifted to a well worn down Heavy Ball at the very end.

There were unspoken rules to being a Gym leader, expectations and culture and traditions that had built upon each other and had been baked into the core of the league by almost two centuries of history.

Gym leaders were supposed to be the protectors of the city, leaders of the local community, and act as both role models and guides to other trainers. It was customary to have a second team to use against new trainers with less than tree badges, and if you weren’t interested in humoring newbies because you wanted to focus on pushing your challengers to the absolute limit, then you made it obvious in advance by putting badge number requirements on your Gym, like Volkner and Candice did.

You accepted defeat with honor. You understood that your main task was to be a challenge for people to overcome, and to push your challengers to grow as trainers.

Roark knew all of that.

But when Mark was beaming at him with that smug shit eating grin, he just couldn’t bring himself to care.

“You come to Oreburgh and you insult my city, you insult my Gym, you insult me, you insult my abilities as a trainer, you make me look like a fool in my own arena while doing nothing but shit talking, and you somehow think you can get away with that?” 

Roark scowled as he pulled the gray and blue Pokeball off his belt that he knew he shouldn’t use against a badgeless trainer, especially not in such a bait and switch way after using a beginner friendly team up to this point. Using this Pokemon would earn him scorn and disapproval from both the public and other Gym leaders.

Especially since it wasn’t even his to begin with.

“Steelix! I need you!”

Roark hurled the Heavy Ball his father had entrusted him with for protection in times of emergency, and summoned a veteran of the gym circuit.

The massive Pokémon that materialized was grizzled from hundreds of battles, and was covered from head to tail in battle scars, 

“...Well shit.” Mark muttered in awe as he stared up at the towering behemoth, and he could only come to a single conclusion. 

“We are so fucked.”

-Chapter End-

Blah de blah, trying to explain why Roark is a gym leader while being weaker than 80% of the basic trainers in the game.  There’s the fan explanation that Gym leaders just have newbie friendly teams (which is supported by the fact you can rematch him later for an actual end game challenge.), but also we know explicitly from the anime that his Cranidos IS his main partner and ace, and that it later evolves into the Rampardos you fight in the rematch.

He doesn’t have two teams.

So like.

I dunno. 

~Game Logic~

If enough people REALLY don’t like it, I might go back and change it to something more generic and boring and closer to what’s prolly expected.

On another note.

I know they fixed Flint’s team in Platinum to actually have fire types in it, but I think the idea that the “Fire Type Elite Four”  had half his team being a Steelix, Drifblim, and Lopunny (AKA: not fire types at ALL) for his first few years or so is too funny to not be canon.

*Sips Hot Chocolate*

A giant thanks to the generous people who help get these chapters out faster, and get early access to a chapter ahead of what's out for the public, as thanks and to suggest changes.

The members of the Shadow Government, who funnel taxpayer funds directly into my corrupt wallet! Long may they reign!

JackHammer! (The Jeweled Smasher), Helios (The Honored!), MidnightHydro! (The Mighty!), 0RB! (The 0pulant!), Nuckles222 (The Nuclear Threat!), Wolfwind01010 (The Wonderous!), Rom Hack (The Robotic Housekeeper!), Indyk (The Insatiable Imperial!), NickPine (The Nefarious!), and VidDav FerDeL (The Villainous!)

The Champions! Leading the fight!

Nvsoulsborne, ShelDrake, Tom Tat, Gage Donaldson , Thrawn, PrisonDictator, and Adante!

The Dollar Army! Marching with honor and glory!

Phil, Eledu, Blue_port, WiseKitsune, Jac, Alex Estrugo, Jaydon Adams, Elenium935, Nyte, David Phan, Max Buckner, Spam2Spam, GrimDeathKnight, Hamza Abfallah, Twin the Commissar, thegodfather, Indie, The Brandonator, Aswin Suthan, wGLeblanc, EngineerLife24, CideredApples, Prince of Ruin, SILENGE, Lord_of_Pola, DerHochi, Savage Scorpion, Anima, Summers Mori, Slowchoke, Jacob Roy, Seanfrks, Diavolo, Brayden, Ecos920, VeryNiceCoat, Jerome Francis Lucasan, James Clifton, Corey Barber, SDA SPO, and daniel!

And a special SPECIAL thanks to :

NickPine, MidnightHydro, and VidDav FerDeL!

Who have chosen to sub to the highest “Humanitarian” tier which I put up after my Bank got hacked and I lost a lot of money.

Thank you all so much, you are my Heroes.

Chapter Text

-The Dragon King-

-New World Blues: Ch 5-

Pokémon battling was, by definition, a sport, but that didn’t really do it justice. Nor did calling it a “cultural phenomenon”, or even a “cultural hallmark”, fit either. Back on Earth, Baseball was considered to be the unofficial national sport of America, and even had the moniker of “America’s pastime”, but not even Baseball at its peak as a cultural icon could possibly hold a candle to Pokemon battling. 

It was a way of life.

Everything from childhood dreams, to the government, to the economy, was built upon battling.

Yes. Even the economy. Compared to developed countries on Earth, citizens of Sinnoh, Unovah, and the like were able to enjoy a prosperous near-tax-free life because of the income the League made off of selling licensed trainer equipment, and hosting the largest tournaments that people were willing to pay hand over fist to get tickets for.

Like all things to do with culture there wasn’t a clear set of written rules, you just had to feel it to know the boundaries. Volkner pulling out all the stops to act as a final challenge before the Elite Four, Wake putting his foot down and using his ace to impart an important lesson to a naive trainer, Maylene getting fired up and using a stronger team than a challenger is ready for because she thinks they can handle it, those were all completely acceptable. 

Using a veteran Gym Pokemon against a no badge trainer, because he embarrassed you, was not socially acceptable. Especially when that Pokemon was captured, raised, trained, and gifted to you by someone else.

If Mark had been a part of the local culture, he would have understood the significance of what was happening, and why people in the stands were whispering to each other and suddenly pulling out their phones to record.

If he knew better he could have perhaps used it to his advantage in some way to exploit the situation, and get what he wanted without continuing the battle. But then again, that would require him to not just stubbornly attempt to bullhead his way through the problem.

But he didn’t know the culture. And he was just that stubborn.

“Shiiiiiit.”

Mark and Bagon both gawked as Steelix rose to a towering height of almost 20 feet (6 meters) into the air, with plenty more of its snake-like body coiled on the ground for support.

It was a beast that had seen hundreds of battles and had the scars to prove it.

But instead of the battle addicted maniac that Mark projected onto all of his Pokemon in the games, the old Steel type seemed confused as it looked down at them, before turning around at Roark with a disappointed look in its one good eye.

Calling back to his military days, Mark allowed himself five seconds to panic, before forcing himself to get a grip and start thinking.

“Okay. I wasn’t expecting this, this is a new problem, we need a solution. There is a wall in front of me, where are the holes in it?”

This wasn’t as bad as it seemed. It was bad, but they weren’t totally fucked yet! 

Bagon had been pretty strong when Mark first caught him, and they had spent the last week fighting wild Pokémon, beating the asses of any newb trainers dumb enough to accept a fight, and training nonstop. If he was being generous in his estimations. Bagon was somewhere in the low to mid twenties level wise, while this Steelix was probably, oof, uhhhh, we’ll just throw out a random and completely unsupported level 40? Yeah, that seemed fairish. Maybe.

And Steelix has really shit stats, like, of the 500 stat points it has, half of it is in physical defense. So even if it’s twice the level of Bagon, half of all its growth is going into its defense, which they can just sidestep by using special attacks.

(That’s all assuming that the level system even works in this world, which he has no evidence that it does.)

And that wasn’t all!

For as intimidating as the monster was, it was also very clearly past its prime. It moved with a sluggishness that spoke of aching joints, there were several large cracks in its steel hide from injuries that it had never fully recovered from, and a horrible scar covered half of its face where it was missing an eye.

It was a mighty Pokemon, a veteran battler with many wins to its name, but it was also very obvious why Byron had “retired” Steelix to watch over his son. Truth be told, Steelix just wasn’t fit for competitive battling anymore.

“And it also adds a new type dynamic that we can take advantage of! Bagon, use Ember!”

Bagon snapped out of his shock, riding the wave of resolve from his trainer, and launched a volley of fire that was miles better than the poor display he had displayed at the start of his training.

Steelix didn’t even move to dodge, and let the attack hit him head on. The Ember exploded in small pops as each pellet impacted Steelix’s metal hide, but even with the type advantage it didn’t deal any major injuries.

“Don’t let up, another volley! Aim for the cracks in his armor!”

“Steelix, put an end to this upstart. Rock Tomb!”

Once again, Steelix took the attack head on, though this time it flinched as several of the pellets found their way between his plate armor. The snake raised its tail and gently wacked the ground with it.

Across the field, the dirt under Bagon’s feet rumbled, giving him the warning he needed to leap away before two rocks rose up and crashed into each other.

“Nice dodge! Use your speed! Get in close and hit ‘em with a Dragon Breath right in the weak spot!”

“Steelix!” Roark yelled out, pissed that his last ditch solution wasn’t taking this seriously. “Stop holding back! Take that dragon out! Iron Tail!”

Again the metal titan didn’t move as Ember rained down on him and left light scorch marks, nor did he do anything more than let out a hiss of pain as Bagon blew dragon fire directly into a crack in his hide.

But then it was almost like Bagon stepped on a tripwire, as he let out another volley of Ember, Steelix’s tail suddenly snapped out and slammed into his side faster than either him or Mark could react.

The TE wasn’t in it so it wasn’t quite Iron Tail, and was instead more of a “normal tail that happened to already be made of iron”, but it did the job regardless.

“Bagon!” Mark shouted as he watched his partner get flung through the air like a rag doll.

Thinking quickly, Mark attempted to return Bagon to his Pokeball before he could hit the ground, but due to his inexperience with laser-based weaponry, he missed with the red beam, and was unable to help as Bagon slammed into the ground.

“Shit! Come back, buddy and rest up. I’ll think of something.”

“Not so high and mighty now, are you? Huh?” Roark called out from across the arena. “You’re completely out matched here. Just throw in the towel to save yourself the embarrassment of dragging this out. I won’t even make you pay the bet, if you ask nicely.”

“Fuck off, dumbass! I ain’t no fucking quitter!” The ex soldier sneered as he withdrew Bagon, pride and anger blinding his judgment. “Bidoof1 go!”

“Not this shit again. Steelix! They’re going to try to lower your defense, defeat him before they can do it!”

Steelix was a lot less concerned than Roark, about whatever tricks Mark was trying to pull off, and instead seemed concerned for the half dead rodent that was never technically called out by the ref.

“Bidoof1! On your feet soldier!”

The plump mouse Pokemon obeyed her trainer, pulling herself back to her feet, even as she swayed dangerously close to toppling over to either side.

“Brilliant! Now, use your secret move! Leer! And then follow it up with Growl!”

Steelix visibly wilted as the normal TE seeped into him and sapped his strength. It took a lot to stand proudly with all his old injuries and age, so even just a simple status effect move looked like it had an outside effect on him.

In the air beside Steelix, a faint brown glow rapidly pulled together pieces of dirt from thin air, compacting it into a mighty rock, which he sent sailing forward with a flick of his tail.

Just like with the “iron tail”, it was less of a Rock Throw, and more of a “rock toss”, but the result wasn’t any prettier.

“Oooooh!” Everyone in the Gym collectively cringed as the car-sized boulder landed square on Bidoof1 and kind of just did what any boulder would do if it hit a gerbil.

Smush.

Steelix reached out with its tail and rolled the rock to the side, causing the audience to let out another collective cringe.

“Oh. Ooooh. Uh, that’s uh, oof. Don’t worry, we’ll get you to the Pokecenter, and you’ll be as good as new in no time.” Mark withdrew the vaguely Bidoof-shaped-mess back into the Pokeball with a wince.

“Bidoof is unable to battle! Can the Gym nurse please collect that Pokeball from Marcus, and take it to the Pokecenter?”

With no third Pokemon to speak of, Mark had no option but to pull Bagon’s ball off his belt again, even though there hadn’t been as much time as Mark had wanted for him to rest.

“Alright little buddy, he’s been softened up a bit. He’s going gloves off, and so are we. No mercy, aim for his good eye. If he can’t see you, he can’t hit you. I’m hot dropping you right in front of him, so start charging up now. When you pop out, hit him point blank with your biggest blast and use the recoil to get some distance.”

The Pokeball shook in affirmative as Mark whispered his newest strategy.

“Bagon, I choose you!”

Pulling on his childhood years of pitching in baseball, Mark hurled Bagon’s Pokeball with as much force as he could put behind it. It whizzed through the air like a fastball, the spin even curving it a little as it flew towards Steelix, who seemed genuinely caught off guard.

The blue dragon materialized with his head reared back and as much dragon fire as his lungs could possibly hold, and the Pokeball’s natural knockback from releasing wasn’t enough to send it back to Mark, instead it fell off to the side, where the ref had to scurry and catch it.

“DRAGON BREATH!”

“BAAAAAAA!”

Steelix only saved its last eye with a split second turn of his head, but Bagon took the opportunity to aim directly for the empty socket where the snake’s old eye used to be.

Steelix recoiled and let out a roar of agony, as it toppled backwards into the ground with a mighty crash that sent debris flying in all directions. He wasn’t out yet, as evidenced by the fact he was writhing in pain, but he had taken more damage with that one attack than he had in entire battles in the past.

“Hit him again! Ember!”

“Fuck, it’s just like with Cranidos! Steelix use Harden! Get back your defense!”

But the iron snake ignored Roark, he wasn’t even his real master. Instead he roared in rage as he pushed his head back into the air. Ember washed over him like a sheet of rain, but he withstood it, forming two rocks out of TE in a fraction of the time that it had with Bidoof1, and sent them blasting through the air at Bagon.

The dragon managed to just barely dodge the rocks, but lacked the critical battle experience to recognize the trap. He leapt out of the way of one attack, and jumped right into the path of another.

Steelix slammed its tail into the ground, and twin rocks erupted from the soil under Bagon, snapping shut faster than a mousetrap and crushing him between them in a Rock Tomb.

In less than three seconds, the match was over. Decisively. 

“BAGON! Come on! Break out of there, you can do it!”

Trapped painfully between two massive rocks, Bagon pushed past the pain of his injuries to fight desperately to free himself. He strained and twisted, but the stone held him fast, scraping his skin raw. With each failed attempt, his strength waned, and he only cut himself more and more on the jagged rocks.

Finally Bagon managed to wiggle free, and fall to the ground with a thud. But he was still. Unresponsive. It was all he could do to keep his eyes open.

“Get up, Bagon! Come on! I know you’re not out for the count, I know you’re not giving up, that’s just not what you do!”

But Bagon did not get up. Mark’s desperate shouting echoed around the suddenly very quiet Gym arena. The spectators seemed disgruntled, as they awkwardly shifted in their spectator seats. Sure the challenger had been acting like a prick, but this all had been a bit… drastic , don’t you think? And beating him down so mercilessly? A guy who was a no badge trainer? And why, because the guy got under Roark’s skin and then backed up his talk by almost winning?

Casey wrung his hands nervously. Part of him wanted so desperately to stand up to cheer on Mark and boo at Roark, but his stage fright kept it sealed- it felt like a bubble welling up inside him that kept getting tighter and tighter but refused to pop.

Dawn had a fierce frown on her face, and was rapidly tapping her finger on her knee without realizing it. She already had a detailed message half written in her head that she was going to send to the Professor once this was over. She had fought an earnest young man who was trying his best to fill his father’s shoes. This was not that man.

Doubts of shame flickered beneath the anger in Roark’s expression, and even Steelix seemed a little regretful now that he had calmed down.

“Come on! Get up!”

This was it? A once in a lifetime chance that he didn’t deserve, a chance to try again without the weight of all his failures dragging him down, and THIS was how it ended!?

This was it. He’d lost. And it wasn’t even against the Champion, he’d fumbled at the very first gym.

He had lost, and considering this was an official League sponsored Gym challenge, avoiding the entry fine was as illegal for the challenger to do as it is for the gym leader to withhold the reward. Mark wasn’t sure on the details, or the specific wording of the law, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Roark could use his influence as the de facto head of Oreburgh to force him to go into debt to pay his end of the wager.

This could ruin him economically in a way that he might not be able to come back from for a long time, and might ruin his career completely if he got the cops on his ass for this.

And so Mark’s story came to an abrupt but temporary end. He had played his cards too aggressively, and turned out to be too good at getting under Roark’s skin. It was a rough but inevitable conclusion for someone who placed all their faith in games that had been proven to not match this world perfectly.

…

But Mark wasn’t the only one dissatisfied with how things had turned out.

The Renegade Pokemon watched his champion’s fight conclude with a simmering anger in his gut.

To be cheated out of a glorious victory, after such an impressive performance beforehand- and by such pettiness too! It was an insult to anyone who valued a good battle, and had even a scrap of honor to their name.

But there was something very specific about this that really angered him.

If your opponent managed to steal victory out from under you through cunning or guile, that was one thing. But when done on the back of something that he put no effort into? That was never his to begin with? 

It was undeserved.

Trapped in the Distortion World, Giratina didn’t have much presence in the materium realm, but there were drops that had seeped through over the years. Despite knowing what kind of attention it would bring, he pulled together the tiny fragments of himself into a dark yet invisible fog, and swooped down.

Mark squeezed his eyes shut, grinding his teeth together, and clenching his fists as he tried to think of some way out of this. With every second that passed, and each failed idea, the anger and frustration inside him grew larger and larger.

Giratina’s brand on his soul fanned the flames, slowly building the fire higher and higher until the dam could barely contain the raging firestorm.

A weight settled down on Mark’s shoulders, and when he opened his eyes, they burned crimson red.

“What are you doing?” This time, Mark’s voice carried a weight to it that hadn’t been there before. “Don’t ignore me, I asked what are you doing!? Are you really going to give up right at the finish line? What happened to your dream, huh? What happened to wanting to soar? You’re just going to let this chump crush you before you even get off the ground!? Where’s your FIRE!? Where’s your DRIVE! Where’s your ANGER at those who are keeping you from your dream!?!”

“B-Bag.” Bagon whimpered.

“I am your master, and I am giving you a command! Stand Up! ”

The order felt like it physically hit Bagon, almost like a punch. And using his rage as fuel, Bagon rode the punch back to his feet, stumbling forward in a mad drunk stupor.

“BAAAAAG!”

Bagon planted his feet on the ground, and raised his head in defiance at Steelix. He stared down the impossible threat in front of him with the anger, defiance, and PRIDE that only a Dragon could have. And in response the Dragon Energy that had punched into him echoed his roar.

A brilliant light erupted from Bagon’s chest and engulfed his entire body, causing everyone to gasp in shock and cheer in surprise.

But no one was more caught off guard than Dawn.

“What!? An early evolution! How?! Bagon wasn't showing any signs of being close to evolution during the checkup! To trigger it so early you would need…” She pulled out her Pokedex, tuned the scanner to look for a certain frequency, and her eyebrows shot up through her hairline. “Wh-What!? The Dragon Type Energy readings are off the charts! Where is it all coming from!?!”

Helena stood atop the stands, shivering as every hair on the back of her neck stood on end. A ghost was here- she could feel it, it was an energy unlike anything she had ever encountered! The sheer power of its presence wiped away all her previous guesses. This had to be the work of a Spiritomb; nothing short of mythical status could possibly fill the room with such overwhelming Ghost energy just from its presence.

“RAAAAAAAAA!!!”

Bagon let out a roar as he evolved.

And for a moment, just a single moment, Roark saw two enormous eyes of pure hellfire staring at him from behind Mark, and a cruel laughter that was made of scraping rusted metal echoed in his head.

But it was just a single moment. Then it disappeared, leaving him questioning if he had seen anything at all.

“LET’S FUCKING GOOOO!” Mark whooped as his partner finished evolving.

The light exploded off Bagon in a wave of raw Dragon TE, revealing a royally pissed off Shelgon.

Dawn had been right, it was a forced early evolution. Shelgon was critically underweight for his evolution, and was only two thirds the size of even the youngest Shelgons. His body wasn’t ready to evolve, he was underpowered for what his species should be, and he was incredibly light headed from the massive amount of nutrients that were just burnt transforming him- nutrients that his body hadn’t been stockpiling up beforehand in preparation.

But right now, with all the TE pumping through his veins like the meanest mix of crack and adrenaline, Shelgon didn’t give a flying fuck.

This dumbass, one eye’d, fuck face of a rock snake was DEAD!

“Blast him with Ember, then RUSH HIM!” Mark shouted! “Charge right in! Right fucking in! Get point blank!” 

“Steelix, sweep low with Iron Tail!”

“Jump it!”

Shelgon obeyed, galloping forward on all fours like a horse, and using the newfound power in his legs to leap high over the tail. 

Roark grinned and activated his trap.

“He’s airborne and can’t move! Use Ice Fang!”

But rather than panicking, like the Gym Leader expected, Mark just grinned back like a mad dog. There were lots of fun little facts that he remembered from the games, and on that list is that there’s a new move that every Bagoin learns upon evolution into Shelgon.

“Shelgon, Protect!”

At the command, a semi-transparent green barrier formed around Shelgon. Since Shelgon had never used the move before it was shaky, flickered a bit around the edges, and cracked like glass when Steelix bit into it.

But it held, and that was all Mark needed.

“Take the chance! Drop the shield and let ‘er rip!”

Shelgon immediately understood the hidden meaning. As the green barrier disappeared he was in the exact same position Mark had put him in earlier- point blank in Steelix’s face.

Without hesitation or mercy, a lance of dragon fire speared directly into Steelix’s good eye.

The entire building shook at the roar of fury and pain that Steelix let out.

Shelgon scurried away the moment the tips of his feet touched the ground, just barely avoiding the barrage of Iron Tails that rained down in every direction as Steelix trashed about in a blind rage.

Roark called out in dismay, but his Pokemon refused to listen to him or be calmed down. Instead it continued to tear up the arena around it.

“Distance! DISTANCE!” Mark whisper-shouted at Shelgon, waving frantically towards himself, and trying to get his partner away from the tornado of death without tipping off the very pissed off snake where his buddy was at.

“Don’t stay still, circle him while keeping your distance, and hit him with everything you’ve got!”

Shelgon launched a round of Ember and then followed it up with a Dragon Breath. A rock slammed into the space he had just been, forming a crater as deep as a man was tall, but the dragon had already moved away.

“Ember!”

“Steelix he’s on your left! No, your other left!”

“Dragon Breath!”

“Use Harden!”

“Another Ember!”

Shelgon’s attacks all hit home, but every time Steelix tried to retaliate his moves missed. Rocks went flying in all directions, with several even smashing into the barrier protecting the audience, causing people to scream as it cracked.

And this dance repeated again.

And again. 

And again, and again, and again, and AGAIN!

Every attack left light burns, and they were directed at Steelix’s weak points at every opportunity. Bit by bit they added up, slowly wearing the once proud battler down.

It was like watching someone slowly chip away at a rock with a metal pick, except the rock was alive and screaming in agony. Mark and Shelgon were brutally pulling Steelix apart piece by piece, but no one could blame them- there was nothing else the two could do. Instead every eye in the room bore down on the back of Roark’s head, glaring at the fraud of a Gym Leader who was willingly subjecting his Pokemon to this because he refused to swallow his pride and bow out of the match.

Steelix roared in defiance, pushing through the pain and completely ignoring the bumbling of his foolish trainer. Calling upon more strength than his battered body had used in almost a decade- even before he was retired from Byron’s main team, he slammed his tail into the ground and let out a burst of TE.

Massive spears of rocks began erupting all over the arena, as Steelix put everything it had into a massive Stone Edge. If he didn’t have eyes to aim anymore, he would just hit everywhere .

A jagged lance of rock clipped Shelgon’s side and sent him flying into the air. He landed with a mighty crash, and scrambled to his feet as he desperately tried to avoid the rocks.

The attack was still going strong.

 A second hit cut a nasty gash in his leg, and it was only thanks to his new hardy shell that he came out relatively unscathed.

Steelix was hunched over, panting, and the assault was losing momentum.

Shelgon leapt to the side, narrowly dodging a hit that would have knocked him out for sure.

The attack was rapidly dwindling, it couldn’t keep going for much longer.

Then, as the relentless onslaught ended, and right as Shelgon and Mark collectively let out a sigh of relief, a Stone Edge erupted right underneath Shelgon.

Unlike the first hit, it wasn’t a glancing blow, it was a direct hit that applied all the force directly into the impact. Instead of most of the energy being bled off in momentum by sending Shelgon skywards, the rock slammed into him with such force that it shattered on impact.

Shelgon screeched, and a sprawling spiderweb crack exploded from the point of contact on his shell, branching out in every direction. The once-clear surface was instantly marred by deep jagged lines, radiating outward like a chaotic starburst, as the force of the blow reverberated across the shield, threatening to shatter it like an egg.

It was only thanks to the shell that the dragon wasn’t speared through like a bloody marshmallow, but even so he fell to the ground like a puppet with his strings cut.

“SHELGON! Shit! Are you alright!”

The Pokemon growled at his trainer’s concern, almost offended at the worry. Slowly, and with great effort, he hauled himself to his feet. A single good hit was almost enough to take him out, but he wasn’t down just yet.

In the middle of the arena, Steelix stood completely still, the sound of his pained wheezing and panting was the only indication he was alive.

Then slowly, oh so slowly, Steelix fell to the ground, losing the fight with gravity, and ending his final battle.

Everyone held their breath, before the ref finally blew her whistle.

“S-Steelix is unable to battle. The winner is Marcus Cross!”

The victor was announced, but no one cheered. Everyone was too busy staring at Steelix in shock to do anything else.

The stillness was only broken when Shelgon raced across the arena in glee and leapt into Mark’s arms.

“Oughk!” Mark grunted as the living cannonball slammed into him, weighing a lot more than he had as a Bagon. If Mark were anyone else he would have been knocked over then and there- Hell, if it had been Mark at any other time before this, he would have been toppled over to the floor.

But riding high on the adrenaline of the battle, and as a tsunami of dopamine flooded his brain when it finally clicked that he fucking won , he refused to back down. Mark grit his teeth, braced his arms, and let out a guttural war cry as he slowly forced Shelgon into the air.

“RRRAAAAAH! WE FUCKING DID IIIIIITTT! YEEEEEAAAAAAAH!!”

And that was the photo that a lucky audience member would snap on her phone, and have her pocket padded by a news company so they could use it for their story tomorrow.

Marcus standing proudly, screaming in victory as he lifted Shelton high over his head with both arms.

The title of the paper would be simple, but prophetic.

[The Dragon Lands- A new Gym Circuit competitor proves he’s worth keeping an eye on]

-The Dragon King-

A dark presence watched in amusement from above. It hadn’t intended to intervene so directly in the fight, but it had paid off. His champion had grown stronger, become a better commander through experience, and the little dragon had been exposed to enough draconic energy to evolve earlier than it should have been able to.

Perhaps being forced to face the cold reality of defeat would have been a good lesson for Marcus as well, but that was always bound to happen eventually, regardless.

No, a little nudge and influx of energy was the least he could do as the future dark lord’s patron, especially since he wasn’t able to provide the financial support Marcus seemed to be struggling with.

Suddenly color drained from the world, and time seemed to stutter like an old film reel, before snapping back to exactly how it had been before. Only, there was a single difference. Instead of one presence hanging in the sky, now there were two.

Immediately the dark aura, near invisible to the naked eye, flew off at a blistering speed, racing through the atmosphere towards Eterna city, trying to put as much distance between himself and his champion as possible. The other presence was hot on his tail and closing fast, but he could tell she was humoring him- if she really wanted to catch him, he would have been in her claws the moment she wanted it.

As the lights of the city got closer, the dark fog swooped downwards towards the Eterna City Opera House, snaking its way through an open window on the top floor, and slithering under the door of a nearby maintenance closet.

In the dark, the black fog condensed, taking some time to morph into an unfamiliar shape.

The door unlocked with a click, and out stepped a distinguished gentleman in a perfectly fitted black suit. He had gleaming red eyes, his hair was an icy white that was combed to perfection on the top of his head and was chiseled into a sharp beard on his jaw.

The man closed the door behind him, careful not to get any dust on his white gloves, he adjusted his red tie, and then took his leave. He wandered through the decorated hallways, making his way through crowds of Sinnoh’s rich elite without a doubt of hesitation.

A woman with black teardrops in her silky blond hair eyed him suspiciously as he passed, before dismissing her suspicion with a shake of her head and resuming her conversation.

The air was rich with the scent of polished mahogany and subtle notes of jasmine from the elaborate floral arrangements adorning the corridors. He passed paintings and golden chandeliers, before eventually stepping out onto a small balcony overlooking the center floor, where the Opera was going on in earnest. 

Below, the stage was a masterpiece of velvet drapes and gilded fixtures, shimmering under the glow of crystal chandeliers that hung like celestial bodies. The audience, dressed in elegant evening attire, sat in rapt attention as the orchestra weaved their symphony. 

The conductor swiped his wand through the air sharply, without an ounce of doubt or hesitation, guiding the musicians with precision, their instruments gleaming in the soft golden light of the stage. Each note weaved seamlessly into the next, creating a cascade of harmonious beauty that even the man, who had no personal love of music, had to begrudgingly admit was pretty good.

The man waved a server over, took two glasses of red wine, leaned against the railing, and waited.

…

And waited.

…

And still waited.

…

And just as he was starting to think he’d somehow been forgotten about (a truly offensive idea), he heard the sound of heels clacking on tile behind him.

A beautiful woman leaned her back against the railing to his right, her skin was flawless, her hourglass figure easily put actors and models to shame, and her mere presence was enough to draw the eyes of several onlookers- both male and female. She wore a glittering pearl white dress that sparkled in the light, and contrasted well with her deep navy blue hair and shining sapphire eyes.

The man quirked an eyebrow as he had to look up at someone a full head taller than him, even when he was already six feet tall.

“You know, typically Human women aren’t that tall.”

The woman smiled and leaned over slightly, bringing him eye level with a set of sharp fangs

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never had to put on a human disguise before, so I had to take my time to make mine perfect. I’m surprised you have experience with it, Giratina .”

The King of the distortion world smiled at the Queen of time.

“Not all of us have the liberty to stop time to avoid getting spotted, Dia. Some of us have to work with finesse.”

“Oh please. You wouldn’t know what finesse was if it bit you on the ass.”

“I’ll have you know that it’s near second nature to me.” He grinned smugly as he offered her one of the glasses he was holding. “Wine, my dear?”

Dialga frowned, but accepted the wine. “What are you doing, and how did you get here?”

“Enjoying the music,” He said, gesturing to the show below, “And I know you saw me sneak in through the window.” 

“That’s not what I meant. Answer the question.”

“It’s always business with you, learn to have humor sometime.” Giratina scowled. “This world is mine by birthright, no one can deny that to me, not even Father. Even with the distortion realm completely sealed off, I can still slowly manifest small pieces of myself here because the world itself is linked to me. It is not a matter of if I will rule this realm, but when.”

Dialga rolled her eyes at her brother's theatrics. “Yes, but are you ruling it now?”

“...No.”

“Exactly. Because it’s my ability to turn any ‘when’ into a ‘never’.” She said smugly and took a sip of her wine. For being of mortal make, it was pretty good.

“Which is why I want you to join me.” Her brother held out his hand towards her. “Aren’t you tired of living under the heel of Father’s boot? Together we can rule however we want, and guide this planet on a better path.”

If she was caught off guard by the offer, Dialga didn’t show it.

“Join you and risk getting locked away for all of eternity? I’ll pass. Besides, what ‘better path’ could either of us bring?” Dialga chuckled in a sound that reeked of self deprecation, and waved down at the Opera below, where the band and singers were picking up for the grand finale. “Back when you were with us, we were all pretty hands off, remember? We let the Humans do what they wanted, and fight whatever wars they felt like. Then the King of Kalos made that damn weapon, and you started your rebellion…”

Dialga trailed off and stared at the red wine in her crystal glass.

“Now Father has everything on total lockdown. Humanity’s salvation. World peace for everyone… Forever.”

“Stagnation is not salvation.” Giratina growled. “Nothing has been solved, all the problems are still there, it’s all just been forcibly repressed. The world needs balance, and this forced order is as much of an antithesis to that as the distortion world’s chaos. Change needs to happen! Every time it gets pressed back down, the pressure just gets greater, and the next time gets more dangerous as the world pushes back.”

“It doesn’t sound like my problem. I’ve been instructed very specifically to stay away from surface matters.” Dialga shrugged and looked away from her brother. “Besides, Father’s precious chosen one has been taking care of everything pretty easily, if you ask me.”

“Taking care of things!? You can’t be serious! Use your eyes , Dia, I know you’re not blind!”

Giratina gripped the gold painted railing so tightly it bent.

“It started gently, you know. Team Rocket were just mobsters that desired money and power. Then Team Cipher studied legends of my own power and started creating those ‘Shadow Pokemon’ as perfect soldiers to wage war. Then team Aqua and Magma tried to harness the power of legendaries to physically rip the world asunder. And now things are only getting more extreme! The Plasma group has started to fall into fanaticism and is whispering about armed revolution. Lysandre Labs has begun excavation and study on the ultimate weapon used by the last King of Kalos. The Galactic Corporation has begun hunting down the lake trinity here in sinnoh. And even Rocket’s Giovani, who originally only cared for his own wealth, has somehow come up with the idea that he should attempt to capture Mewtwo and create the ultimate living weapon. The world will tear itself apart if this continues!”

Giratina hurled his drink in frustration over the edge of the balcony, to the dismay of some poor schmuck three floors down.

“Say whatever you want about me, or what you think I would do if released from my prison. Insult me. Scold me. Laugh and sneer. I don’t care, because even the worst I could do is a mercy compared to the certain doom that Father’s obsessive need for control is driving this world towards, and not even Ash Ketchum with all the blessings of Hoho, Mew, and Arceus himself placed upon his shoulders can hold that back forever.”

Dialga didn’t immediately respond, instead she just sat in silence, staring vacantly at her glass as she swirled the wine around in it.

“Even if you disagree with my methods, even if you hate me, surely you have to agree that something has to be done.”

“And what do you think we can possibly do?” Dialga laughed, but it was a hollow thing, soaked in self loathing. “Even if I did side with you, space and time are fundamentally linked, Palkia and I will always stalemate each other, it's written into our very essence. That would leave you alone to have a shot at Father, and, well…” She scoffed. “I remember that going horribly for you last time you tried that.”

“My imprisonment in the distortion world has given me all the time and anger I needed to truly come into my power, and transcend beyond what I was ever capable of before.”

“Strong enough to survive getting a sun thrown at you again?” Dia raised a singular eyebrow. “And besides, even before you could get to Father, you would have to fight through legions of soldiers that have either sworn allegiance, or don’t even realize they’re playing to his tune. The Ketchum boy would eagerly be the first to stand in your way, without any regards to his personal safety, and harass you at every turn.” 

“He’s just one child, he can't be everywhere at once.”

“A child who has faced off against legendaries, been blessed by minor gods, and systematically disassembled entire criminal organizations without even realizing it. He’s not exactly a thinker, so there wouldn't be a strategy for you to outsmart, he would just randomly stumble upon and unravel every critical piece of your plan at the worst possible moment. It happens every single time, just by luck and happenstance .” She waved her fingers through the air, and said those words with such mockery it was clear she knew it wasn’t just random luck at all.

“I have things in motion, and the chosen one hasn’t even been called to this region yet.” The dark king placed his hand on her shoulder. “Dia… All I need is for my little sister to trust me again, just one last time. Please.”

Dialga paused at the sincerity of his tone, doubt flickering across her face for a moment, before she forced her mask back on. “Things you’re not going to tell me about, I take it?”

“Of course not, how could you claim plausible deniability otherwise? You couldn’t possibly try to stop something you didn’t know existed.”

“Ha! You’re such an ass! You don’t even have anything set up yet, and you’re still acting all confident and trying to smooth talk me.” 

The queen of time threw back her glass, downing the last of the wine, and copied her brother in tossing it over the edge of the balcony. Then she turned and poked him in the chest. Her fingernail faintly glowed blue with power, and pierced down to the knuckle where his heart should have been. He grunted but he didn’t show any sign of pain.

Then she leaned in close to his ear, and whispered-

“The next time we meet, you better have turned whatever you're orchestrating into something with an actual shot at working.”

Giratina grinned, but before her brother could say any smug quip, she swiped her hand downwards, and bisected him in two. Instead of killing him, and having his organs flop all over the place, like a normal person, he just disappeared in a puff of ash and dark smoke. Banished back to the distortion world.

Exactly one second later a grandfather clock chimed at the turn of the hour, and Dialga disappeared at the toll of the bell.

-Chapter End-

Blah blah blah, “but the sinnoh legends are ackshtually genderless” shut up. Shut! Writing a they/them character in a group of people is a fucking pain, writing TWO in a group of people is a genuine headache. “Hey, Mr author, who is this ‘they’ referring to? They the group, or them, or them, or them, or them?”

Besides, they’re literal Deities that have been shown to be able to alter their forms- they can be whatever they want to be.

If it’s not obvious I’m going with the “three Sinnoh legendaries are Arceus’ children” interpretation of the lore. Obviously not literally his children, they were just his first and most powerful creations, but the concept is the same. This, in turn, makes them all siblings- which adds a lot of relatable context to the whole Dialga-Palkia rivalry, in my opinion.

Also we get a peak at the main plot that the story’s going to be revolving around in the long term! Did you think I was going to introduce Giratina in chapter one, use him as an excuse to put Mark in the Pokemon world, and then NOT use him as a core point of the plot???

What kind of author do you think I am?!

*Sips Hot Chocolate*

I honestly debated whether I should have Mark lose this fight. He should not have won against Steelix, and I think I showed that pretty well with how hard he got curb stomped before Giri got involved. But I want to get the story underway and not spend two arcs on him trying the first gy over and over.

Besides, Roark cheated by using Steelix, so Mark had every right to cheat by using Giratina. (Even if he didn’t know it)

AND with Giri getting booted back to the distortion world, it also lets me establish that Mark has officially lost his plot armor. Now when something genuinely goes wrong people won’t complain about “but why doesn’t Giratina just intervene, and push Mark without him realizing it, like Arceus does with Ash?” in the comments.

Besides, I think this went pretty fucking hard for Gym number one. Not even Borne of Caution (my absolute favorite Pokemon fic, and the direct inspiration for this story) had the first gym fight be this big of a boom.

Let’s see how Mark continues from here with a now horribly inflated ego, an underpowered Shelgon, and a brutally mauled Bidoof that he has already completely forgotten exists.

Tell me what you think! Comment your ideas, opinions, and thoughts- I read ALL of them!

Join the Discord:

https://discord.gg/YmWYB9uupx

*Sips Hot Chocolate*

A giant thanks to the generous people who help get these chapters out faster, and get early access to a chapter ahead of what's out for the public, as thanks and to suggest changes.

The members of the Shadow Government, who funnel taxpayer funds directly into my corrupt wallet! Long may they reign!

JackHammer! (The Jeweled Smasher), Helios (The Honored!), MidnightHydro! (The Mighty!), 0RB! (The 0pulant!), Nuckles222 (The Nuclear Threat!), Wolfwind01010 (The Wonderous!), Rom Hack (The Robotic Housekeeper!), Indyk (The Insatiable Imperial!), NickPine (The Nefarious!), and VidDav FerDeL (The Villainous!)

The Champions! Leading the fight!

Nvsoulsborne, ShelDrake, Tom Tat, Gage Donaldson , Thrawn, PrisonDictator, and Adante!

The Dollar Army! Marching with honor and glory!

Phil, Eledu, Blue_port, WiseKitsune, Jac, Alex Estrugo, Jaydon Adams, Elenium935, Nyte, David Phan, Max Buckner, Spam2Spam, GrimDeathKnight, Hamza Abfallah, Twin the Commissar, thegodfather, Indie, The Brandonator, Aswin Suthan, wGLeblanc, EngineerLife24, CideredApples, Prince of Ruin, SILENGE, Lord_of_Pola, DerHochi, Savage Scorpion, Anima, Summers Mori, Slowchoke, Jacob Roy, Seanfrks, Diavolo, Brayden, Ecos920, VeryNiceCoat, Jerome Francis Lucasan, James Clifton, Corey Barber, SDA SPO, and daniel!

And a special SPECIAL thanks to :

NickPine, MidnightHydro, and VidDav FerDeL!

Who have chosen to sub to the highest “Humanitarian” tier which I put up after my Bank got hacked and I lost a lot of money.

Thank you all so much, you are my Heroes.

Chapter Text

Warning for 4chan parody, and the general shit that you see on 4chan. Maybe skip this mini-chapter if you're younger. It’s just to flush out the world more, and isn’t necessary for the plot. Also it's a bit more verbally graphic than the rest of the story, for obvious reasons.

-The Dragon King-

Welcome to Pokechan.

What is Pokechan?

Pokechan is an alternative to the overmoderated BattleNet forums run by the League.

We are a simple image-based bulletin board where anyone can post comments and share images and videos to their heart's content. There are boards dedicated to a variety of topics of all things Pokemon related. Users do not need to register an account before participating in the community. Feel free to click on a board below that interests you and jump right in!

Be sure to familiarize yourself with the Rules before posting, and read the FAQ if you wish to learn more about how to use the site.

You are not currently logged in, all messages will be anonymous. A new “anonymous ID” will be generated every time you open the page.

You are viewing:
• All Threads.
• Thread OP is displayed.
• Images minimized by default.

:Sinnoh League Board:

► Anonymous83860049 (Original Poster):

BRUH. You guys gotta check out this Roark clip! (LINK)

► Febastard (Verified Trainer):

Dude, scroll your mouse wheel. you’re like the tenth person to post that in the last hour. Everyone has seen it by now.

► Anonymous83861391:

Speak for yourself WTF is this!? Holy shit! He used one of his Dad’s Pokemon on a ZERO TRAINER?

► Febastard (Verified Trainer):

Yeah, it’s bad. You know Roark’s cooked when GARDENIA throws shade on her public BatNet account. Volkner always finds a way to be pissed at something going on, so stuff from him is a dime a dozen. Leaf girl? The world could literally be ending and she’d maybe muster up two negative sentences to say about it.

► Anonymous83838937:

Green Mommy is too nice. *GareniASS.png* (click to expand)

► Anonymous83860936:

>Be Roark

>Be Gym Leader

>Get position from ur dad cuz your a neppo baby

>Fight no badge trainer

>Get clapped

>Cry and whine

>Use your daddy’s elite Pokemon that he gave you

>Smack talk No Badgie

>Be so incompetent you lose anyway

Genuine comedy

► Sphealacle:

The fact he still lost is what makes it so legendary

► Anonymous83861309:

The press is going nuts over this, I wouldn’t be surprised if Cynthia says something to calm everyone down. Have we heard anything from Byron?

► Febastard (Verified Trainer):

Nope, but he has to be pissed. Both because of what his son did, and because one of his oldest friends just was made permanently blind.

► Anonymous83851150:

I SAW THAT! That was so fucking brutal! I mean, the guy was just fighting back, Roark pulled out the dirty moves first, and it’s not even the worst injury we’ve seen this year, but DAMN! I don’t want to go up against this guy in a tournament. This guy’s fucking ruthless AND is gonna have a fucking Salamence.

► DragonFucker6969:

ONE OF US! ONE OF US!

► Anonymous83861309:

What do you think about Cross? Think he has a shot at teh Lily tournament? Maybe even the EF?

► Anonymous83865061:

Stubborn. Brave. Stupid.

► Febastard (Verified Trainer):

Those all have the same definition, dumbass.

► DragonFucker6969:

> 83861309

He has a Dragon as a starter and has it listening to him, he’s going to go FAR, I can feel it. 

► Febastard (Verified Trainer):

> 83861309

He’s definitely dramatic, I’ll give him that much. I’m waiting for him to make an account here or on BattleNet (choose a side, Cross) so I can follow him. Even if he’s not a real viable competitor in the long run, he still seems like he’ll have some entertaining battles to watch.

► GardiLOVE (Verified Trainer):

> 83861309

Cross is screwed, it’s his first badge and he already has the entire Sinnoh roster sizing him up. Remember what a semifinalist said in an interview after last year’s Lily of the Valley Conference? The smartest way to get to the top is to keep a low profile. If you stand out too much you’ll catch Vulknner’s attention and get curbstomped. Nobody gets out of Sunnyshore if Vulky pulls out his real team. I’m from Unova but when I tried the Sinnoh circuit I actually hit ss out of the recommended order the moment I had the 5 badges required, that way he wouldn't take the match seriously. I’m something of a Ace Trainer, myself.

► Anonymous83861391:

How do you stay low AND get a sponsorship?? (also why did we change the name to LotV? “Suzuran Conference” was so much cooler)

► Febastard (Verified Trainer):

> GardiLOVE 

“Ace Trainer” yeah right, was a load of fucking BS. I might believe it if I were an idiot. No self respecting trainer would make an account with that PFP.

► Anonymous83836477:

But it’s just a Gardevoir making a cute face???

► Anonymous83838937:

He doesn’t know. Nobody tell him.

► Anonymous83836477:

????

► Febastard (Verified Trainer):

>83836477

Don’t let the lipstick confuse you, it’s a male Gardevoir, and the pic is from the cover of a hardcore gay p0rno.

► Bubblesaur:

Yo? Link? Dab a brudder up with the smause, chief? 

► Anonymous83861391:

>Febastard

And yet you recognized it? Hmm. Curious. *Thinking.png* (click to expand)

► Febastard (Verified Trainer):

>83861391

Perish.

► Bubblesaur:

Link? 

► Anonymous83861391:

Do NOT post the link. That shit is nasty, and illegal in Hoenn. I want to beat up whoever filmed it.

► GardiLOVE (Verified Trainer):

Love is love you backwards Hoenn hick

► Anonymous83861391:

Big talk from a Unovan. The next time you kiss a girl, there’s a real chance those lips have been spit shining her Houndoom’s @$$hole, and not only is it de facto legal, your media is promoting it.

► GardiLOVE (Verified Trainer):

KYS

► Sphealacle:

I didn’t know I was on the politics thread

► MahWillieInaMawile:

>83861391

I agree, the fact they spent money making that video is a crime against humanity… THEY SHOULD HAVE USED A KIRILA INSTEAD! UOOOOOOOOOOH!!! *CryingEmoji.png* (click to expand)

► Bubblesaur:

Linky Loink?

► Febastard (Verified Trainer):

I hate everyone on this site so much, it’s not even funny.

-Chapter End-

As I’ve said before, this fic was directly inspired by Borne of Caution, so I had to try the forum thing Fuggman does at least once.

Unfortunately my experience with message boards on the internet seems to be a lot less positive than his, and I couldn’t make a non-toxic thread for the life of me, that didn’t sound forced as fuck. So have this instead: BattleNet’s unmoderated dumpster fire of a fan offshoot.

Chapter Text

Note, this story will not at all revolve around human/pokemon shit, the only reason that got brought up in the 4chan parody chapter is because it was… you know… a 4chan parody.

Mark is not going to attempt to smegs the lizards, he’s just not that type of guy. A bit too rural, a bit too conservative, a bit too attracted to human women, and a Hell of a lot too much from Earth. Where it is, in fact, frowned upon to attempt to smegs lizards.

Pokewhateveritscalled might be referenced in background occasionally, just because it is part of the in-universe lore (thank you Gamefreak, very interesting), but uh, yeah no. That’s not the main slice of cake here, so if you were one of the few comments that got worried about that popping up in the last chapter, then don’t.

-The Dragon King-

-New World Blues: Ch 6-

Mark had done it, he’d won! He had been pitted against every single odd and yet, somehow, he still won!

Exactly like he said he would.

Casey was the first to his feet once the ref called the match, he was jumping and cheering wildly, stage fright completely forgotten.

Once he broke the silence that had suffocated the audience after Steelix collapsed, other people finally started joining in. The applause ranged from politely awkward to enthusiastic, but Mark practically preened under the praise no matter where it came from.

Already people were eagerly chatting to each other about a whole gambit of things, ranging from what would happen to Roark after this, to theorizing if the new trainer had what it took to make it to the big leagues.

But Casey didn’t bother listening into any of those conversations, he was far too busy cheering for his friend.

“YAAAAH! THAT WAS SO COOL! GO MARK! WOOO!”

As he started clambering down the stands to go congratulate his old school desk-neighbor, Dawn caught him by the sleeve and stopped him.

“Don’t go after him.” She said abruptly, and without any of the sass or emotion that usually defined the way she spoke.

“Huh?” Casey blinked back at her in obvious confusion, and tilted his head the same way a puppy would. “Why not?”

“Remember what you learned back in trainer school? TE messes with people’s heads, and Pokémon release massive amounts of it when they evolve. Mark was standing right next to a Dragon Energy bomb, and got blasted with it point blank.”

And that was on top of whatever had initially set off her sensor, and provided the catalyst for Bagon to evolve in the first place. 

Dawn’s eyes narrowed as she watched the dragon trainer swagger up to the Gym leader and hold out his hand for the badge with a punchable grin on his face. He said something that Dawn was too far to hear, which caused Roark to bristle and hurl the badge on the ground.

Mark didn’t move a muscle in response, he just stood there, hand still outstretched, grin still smug, waiting for Roark to pick up the badge and put it in his hand- something the poor ref had to run over and do before a fistfight broke out.

“Anyone would have their heads in the clouds after a win like that, and someone like Mark doubly so. But with so much Dragon Energy in his system…” Dawn trailed off and made a face. “He’s going to be completely insufferable for the next few days.”

-The Dragon King-

“Your Shelgon has been fully healed, the cracks in his shell have been patched up, but I would recommend having him avoid any high impact blunt trauma for a few days. His evolution seems to have triggered early from the stress of the Gym battle, and his body wasn’t ready for it. He’s underweight and malnourished, so I've gone ahead and administered some Oran based medication to help him get back on his feet, and given him some vitamins.”

Nurse Joy handed over a plastic bag containing Shelgon’s Pokeball, a basic spray potion, and a small pack of protein powder.

“Administer the spray to his shell once a day for the next week, and mix one spoonful of the protein powder into his dinner every day until none remains. I would heavily recommend you pick up some vitamin supplements to help his diet, as well. There is a note in the bag detailing some basics on that.”

“But he’s not in any danger, right?” Mark asked as he took the bag.

“Not at all! You did good in getting him here so fast. Your Bidoof on the other hand is in extensive care, and we will need to keep her here for another few days before-”

“Awesome! You’re a lifesaver, miss Joy!” Marcus gave her finger guns before spinning around and walking out the door, feeling like a million dollars.

The moment he was outside the Pokeball broke open on its own and Shelgon materialized with the cockiest, most smug, expression you could possibly manage with only his eyes visible through the front of his shell.

“There he is! The champion! Haha!” Mark kneeled down and grabbed ahold of the dragon before shaking him. “We fucking won! We got so much fucking cash from that loser, we could buy out town! Let’s go spend it!”

-The Dragon King-

Two massive plates clunked audibly as they were dropped on opposite sides of a dark wood table. Two fat slabs of twin steak were splayed out like a supermodel sexy Jabba the Hutt. It was nothing but deep red meat, perfectly seared with a rich caramelized crust for a deep smoky flavor. Juices glistened as they pooled slightly around the edges of the plate. Cuts of butter slowly melted on top, washing over fresh herbs and a couple thin slices of tangy berries.

Shelgon had never seen Heaven before, but now he knew what lay beyond its gates.

“Boom baby! That’s the feast of fucking KINGS right there!” Mark let out a bellowing laugh as an entire glass pitcher of iced lemonade was dropped between them.

“Shell!”

“I don’t know what the fuck you said, but you’re Goddamned right!” Marcus raised his steak knife into the air like a knight holding a sword. “For victory!”

-The Dragon King-

The Pokemart employee yelped in surprise, hurriedly hiding her phone, as a customer slid up to her and dropped his elbow on the counter.

“Hey girl, what’s a gem like you doing in this dump? They should move all the junk product stands out of the way and have you over towards the front. If you were visible through the windows, this place would have twice the traffic, because you are making that employee outfit look downright criminal. ” 

“Th-Thank you.” She stammered with a blush, shivering as the blond haired man’s burning gaze raked down her body. “B-But please don’t say th-things like that, they aren’t even true.”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“N-N-No!”

“Good, cuz I’m a man of my word.” Mark grinned as he lowered a pair of sunglasses that still had the tag on them, revealing a pair of red eyes that were smoldering like embers. “When I say something, I always mean it.”

“Eep!”

“Excuse me.” A disgruntled woman walked over who straddled the line perfectly between goth and tomboy, she had black hair that was dyed purple at the tips and a black leather jacket. She also looked annoyed at what she was watching.

“Please don’t harass my employees.”

“Only if she asks me to stop.” Mark said with a wink that caused the cashier to blush even harder and start stammering like a broken record.

“Well I’m telling you to stop because she’s not for sale, and I need her to work.” The manager rolled her eyes at their antics. “What brings you to the Pokemart?”

“I’ve got cash, a LOT of it. I just blew the gym out of the fucking water, you’ll most likely see it on the news later, and on top of the normal winnings I doubled it all with a bet against the leader! I am here to spend like a champion!”

“Uh-huh.” The manager looked thoroughly unimpressed. “What are you going to spend like a champion on? Hot dogs?”

“That’s a good idea, but no. I need gear, I need equipment that can take me to the TOP!”

Mark gestured to the battered and stitched together green undershirt that was the last surviving part of his old officer uniform.

“I need new clothes for a new man, I need clothes for a winner!”

“The clothing aisle is over in that direction.”

“I already checked there! I don’t want any of your trendy Barbie girl clothes, I need something nice and durable that can take a good beating. You know, just in case I need to get a little bit…” Mark obnoxiously flexed his arms, showing off his muscles and scars like a protein addicted gym bro. “ Physical when things go south out in the wilds.”

The manager raised a single eyebrow. The cashier buried her hands in her hands to hide her burning face, but was still obviously peeking through her fingers.

“Back corner of the store, aisle 23, past the camping supplies. That’s where we keep custom trainer gear, it’s pricey, but someone who ‘spends like a champion’ shouldn’t have to worry about that.”

The manager sent Mark off with a pointed finger, and turned to her employee with a disappointed look.

“You know you have terrible taste in men, right?”

Mark quickly made his way to the back of the store and began flipping through hangers of gear that was marketed to “professional and aspiring Ace trainers”, and came in all sorts of varieties. There was stuff made of fire resistant material, to water repellent cloth, to skintight bodysuits for people that specialize in flying types.

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Worse than shit. Shit. Pink. Shit. Shit.”

He got halfway through the entire section before he found something that he liked.

“Oh now this is what I’m talking about!”

It was as close to armor as you could find in a clothes store, even one specifically for trainers. It was a long sleeved shirt that was made of thick padded leather, that was held together by iron studs along the seams, and had dull metal plates covering vital areas like the chest and forearms. The back and sides of the gear extended down to cover the mid-thigh, while the front ended at the groin, giving it an upside down V shape.

“Hand made for Rangers who deal with the meanest ‘mons out there, and need a little more protection to their name. Ask the register for options to tailor to your size for an additional fee.”

Mark read the tag aloud as he unclipped the gloves from the outfit and tried them on.

“Who needs a tailor? This fits fine, maybe a size too big at most.”

He slid his hands into the glove, feeling the treated leather interior conform to his grip, while the thin steel plates on the outside hazily reflected the ceiling lights with a rugged edge. It wasn’t made to be pretty, it wasn’t made to catch the eye of sponsors, it was made to work and to keep working until it physically fell apart. 

It was exactly what he wanted.

“All I need now is some pants with a good belt, and I’m golden.”

…

Well, there was one other thing that had caught his eye…

-The Dragon King-

The Pokemart employee yelped as she was pressed against the wall, or at least she would have yelped if her mouth was preoccupied with something else.

She broke the sloppy kiss for air and started desperately gasping for breath, something that Mark made considerably more difficult when he clamped his mouth down on the nape of her neck.

Down at the alleyway entrance, Shelgon stood as a lookout, playing the best damned wingman Marcus had ever seen.

“M-My lunch break only lasts 30 minutes.”

“30? Don’t worry your pretty little face.” Mark growled as he pressed his forehead against hers. “I’ll have you screaming my name in less than five.” 

-The Dragon King-

The TV of the bar was a giant thing, built up into the back wall, and visible not just to all the patrons but also through the large windows and for people on the street.

It was an easy tactic to grab passerby’s attention and make them consider walking in. Right now it was showing a rerun of some of the best battles from years past.

On the screen two heavyweights of the southern regions were facing off in a tournament that Mark didn’t know the name of.

The crowd in the bar whooped and cheered as a battle-scarred Dragonite clashed with an absolutely massive Gyarados.

“And Dragonite tanks through the Hyperbeam to deliver a fully charged Thunder Punch! OH! That’s gotta hurt! Both contestants are on their last legs! What a remarkable show!”

The announcer’s voice was only half audible through the walls. The camera panned to show the trainers

Lance, Champion of the Indigo League, stood across from Clair, the strongest of Jhoto’s Gym leaders- both of whom were Dragon specialists from the Blackthorn clan.

Two Dragon type masters, both with capes.

Very over the top, dragon-y capes.

Shelgon let out a low growl and looked up at Mark meaningfully.

Mark rolled his eyes but turned around back towards the Pokemon center.

He was going to be the champion with the badass Dragon starter, he wasn’t going to be shown up by the professionals for not having a cape.

“They better have something in black, because I’m not wearing some stupid color like orange.”

-The Dragon King-

The door to the ice cream shop was kicked open, and a man strutted in wearing leather/metal armor and a black Darth Vader cape billowing behind him, like some kind of Lance fanboy- it even had a tall collar like the Champion’s

The Lance-fan idea was further reinforced by the midget Shelgon at his side.

“My boy wants some chocolate!” Mark shouted as he crouched down and pointed at his partner. “So get him some fucking chocolate! As many scoops as you can stack!” 

-The Dragon King-

Varivk’s Vitamins was a small-time shop that served a small but loyal customer base. Not many trainers were willing to put down stacks of cash for dietary supplements that they wouldn’t see any benefits from for multiple months down the line, not when there was so many other things they needed to spend that money on first. 

But the trainers that did? Those were the ones that knew their stuff, and almost all of them went far.

Varivk frowned as he read over the pink Pokecenter note.

“An early evolution, ay? Sorry for jumpin to conclusions, then. Usualleh it takes sumn bad siteations fer a ‘mon to be so underweight. S’ ther anythin else ya want, other than the basics tha nurse is tellin ya?”

“That other shit’s good and all, but my boy needs PROTEIN! He needs IRON! I want his shell to be so strong that he can shrug off a tank round!”

The shopkeeper looked down at the tiny underweight Shelgon with a thoughtful expression, and raised a hand to stroke his beard.

“It’ll cost ya a purtey penny, but… Ah think ah can set yeh up for the long run to get them results yeh want.”

“Really? Just with some dietary stuff?”

“‘Mon’s are stong as is, thar bodies can take thangs that’d turn us intuh paste. Give ‘em a struh-tee-gick base ov nutrients n vitamins to grow as fast as thar bodies want too, an they can be right terrifyin.”

Shelgon puffed up, trying to somehow look down at the shopkeeper who was thrice his height.

“I’ll turn this felluh intuh a real monstar. ”

-The Dragon King-

“Oh yeah! This takes me BACK!” Mark laughed like an idiot as he plucked at the string of an old red electric guitar. “I used to have a band back in school, those days were a blast!”

His old failure of a highschool band was a dark shame of his past that he never talked about to anyone but his family, and normally he would have cringed just from holding an instrument in front of someone.

But now wasn’t exactly a “normal” point in time.

Drunk metaphorically off the high of his win, semi-literally with the Dragon Energy running through his brain, and literally just in the normal sense since he was tipsy off the drink’s he’d gotten at the bar; Mark head his harsh strum on the poorly tuned guitar as if it was the single most glorious piece of music ever made.

“Hey, you guys can sell the shit I record for me, right? That’s what the sign out front says.”

“Yes we do.” The owner of the radio shack answered while rubbing the tetanus out of his ear, from Mark’s horrible playing.

“If you’re willing to pay me for licensing and distribution, I’ll put it up for sale on vinyl and record tapes, and try to get the songs on some local radio stations for a bit. Naturally you’ll get a cut of any revenues, and while it might initially seem like a money sink, it has long term potential.”

The owner repeated his normal spiel, leaving out the fact that you’d need to make it big to make any actual money back, and not a single customer of his had even gotten close to that point.

“Bet! Put it on my bill, because I got a song that’ll rock this whole world! Shelgon, give me a beat!”

VRRRIIMMMM

The owner cringed as Mark started ripping into the electric guitar strings.

“I wanna be the very BEST, like no one ever was!~”

He waited until Mark looked away, and then quickly put in earplugs.

-The Dragon King-

“I will travel across the land, searchiiiing far and wide!”

“Shell! Shell! Shell-Shell!”

“Teach Pokemon, to understand! The powah that’s insiiiiide!”

Mark and Shelgon marched through the backroads of the city like they owned the place, hitting up any shop that peaked their interests. While they went they sang the same song they had recorded in the radio shack, and they sang it the same way they had done it there- completely off tune.

“Every challenge along the way- With courage, I will face!”

“I will battle every day! To claim my rightful place!”

“Shell! Gon!”

“Oh yeah! Bring it back!”

The sound of a metal crash from an alleyway interrupted their singing and saved the local population from ear injury.

A trashcan had been knocked over, explaining the noise, and two people were arguing in the space between two rundown buildings. One was a galactic grunt, it was obvious from a mile away with their stupid cyan haircut, but the other was just a normal looking businessman.

It was a guy in a nice looking black suit, with a dark coat over his shoulders, wearing a fedora, and holding a briefcase: AKA prime robbery material.

“I thought the boss already taught you guys a lesson? Or do you need to relearn it the hard way? Huh? No one messes with Galactic!”

“When my associates find out about this-”

“They’ll do nothing! Get that through your head! This is our turf, this whole region is our turf. Sinnoh’s ours , you guys are washed out nobodies here! Why don’t you run back to Kanto, where you belong?” The Galactic grunt mocked the businessman, shoving him into the wall and knocking off his hat.

Mark pivoted on his feet and started walking down the alley. He smoothed out his hair, adjusted the collar on the cape, and put some effort into making sure his footsteps echoed as he approached.

A Galactic grunt? Just out and about, all alone in broad daylight? This’ll be fun.

“Well well well, what do we have here?” He grinned wolfishly as he approached. “One of the blue babies on his own? All alone without any backup? I couldn’t have possibly thought today could get any better!”

“Fuck off, this isn’t your business.”

“How about I make it my business, huh? Whatcha gonna do about it?”

”You don’t want to do this, pal. You have no idea who I am, or who I work for.” 

“Actually I think I know exactly who you are.” 

“Oh really? And you still want to step in?” 

“I know I want to step in.” Mark leaned forward, teeth bared in a cruel grin. “Just to fuck with you.”

The businessman's eyebrows raised at that, suddenly looking curious, but he still made no move to help.

In a single fluid movement the Team Galactic grunt pulled a Pokeball from a hidden pouch in his belt, enlarged it, and reared back to throw it.

Unfortunately for him, Mark was faster.

“Go Zubaaagh!” The Grunt cried out and dropped the Pokeball as Mark’s knee caught him square between the legs.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Mark laughed and held his hands up in a ‘oops’ gesture. “I’m so clumsy sometimes. Slip of the leg, you know? It’s just-” Mark rammed his fist into the grunt’s gut with enough force to lift him off the ground. 

“Man, I don't know what’s gotten into me today.” The veteran said sarcastically as the grunt fell to his knees. 

“Here, I’ll make it up to you, let me just-” Mark reared back and put his whole weight into a brutal haymaker that went right into the grunt’s jaw. The metal of his glove made an audible impact as it made contact, knocking the grunt to the ground, and out cold.

“I think the black eye suits you, maybe I should look into getting all of you dillweeds installed with the latest version.”

Mark kicked the grunt, before turning his attention to the victim. He swiped the black fedora off the ground, gave it a quick dust off, and tossed it over to the man.

“Thank you.” The man said with a hint of curiosity behind his steely eyes. “These mooks are bad for business, and have been harassing my friends and I for months now.”

“Bah, Team Galactic is just a bunch of two time mooks who have a grossly over inflated opinion of themselves.”

Mark rummaged through the grunts pockets, pulling out a thin metal wallet that lit up like a pokeball when he opened it.

“Oh great, it’s one of those weird energy storage things. How the crap do these even work?”

Mark hesitantly stuck his fingers into the light and was immediately weirded out at how much larger it seemed on the inside.

“This is some Harry Potter shit. Let’s see… There’s some cash- that's useful. Can’t use the card because it is traceable, same with the keys and library card. Two empty Pokeballs, score! Some basic potions and a granola bar. The rest of this junk can be tracked to me in some way.” 

Mark threw a fistfull of miscellaneous items at the unconscious grunt, before pausing and looking at the other person in the alley… the guy who was watching him rob an unconscious person.

“You know if these things have trackers?” He asked casually, holding up the thin metal box like you would a bag of chips.

“Usually yes, it's a standard feature for all matter compression devices, considering how expensive they can be. However the ones that Galactic provides to its agents are built without trackers, without a way to sync your trainer ID to them, and are all basically indistinguishable from one another- all to make it as difficult as possible to use them as identifying evidence.”

The businessman man explained with thinly veiled amusement as he watched Mark dig through the wallet. He had an odd amount of strangely specific knowledge about Galactic gear for just some random guy to know, but Mark just brushed it off.

Whatever this guy and his “friends” did to get Galactic on their asses, wasn’t his problem.

“Sweet, then I’m keeping it. It’ll be the first positive contribution these guys have made to anyone’s life.”

The wallet closed with a snap and then disappeared into his pocket.

“All they do is make life difficult with stupid Psyducks and power outages. If you see me around, just give me a holler anytime you need these fuckers dealt with.”

Mark gave a two-fingered salute, to the man, before walking off back towards Shelgon, who was waiting patiently at the end of the alley.

The man in the black hat watched Mark go with no small amount of curiosity.

It wasn’t everyday someone helped Team Rocket keep from being muscled out by a local gang. There was always the chance the trainer didn’t know who he was, but the opposite could be true as well- after all, he had immediately recognized team Galactic and knew them by name, so he had to be involved with the underworld in some way.

“Anytime I need Galactic dealt with, huh?”

Team Rocket might have a potential friend to help them set up in Sinnoh. And Rocket was always good to their friends.

-The Dragon King-

It was nearly past midnight by the time Mark stumbled back to the Pokecenter, laughing drunkenly with a half empty box of GaBITE Energy drink tucked under his arm. (Each can had three times the caffeine of a Coffee cup back home, and the main ingredient was some kind of indigenous spicy-sour berry.)

“Mark! There you are, where have you been! It’s almost 1 in the morning!” Casey hopped up from the bench next to the center door, and rushed over. 

For someone who had lived by a strict 8 o'clock curfew his entire life, and had never known anything else, this kind of behavior was much more worrying than it would be to anyone else.

Casey ran up to Mark, clutching his baby blue jacket around him to ward off the cold wind of  the night. Ralts had no such protection from the wind, and was shivering like a popsicle as he hugged Casey’s neck, and huddled down in the pocket that he’d commandeered for his own, in his trainers big pink backpack.

“Nobody knew where you went, Dawn hadn’t seen you all day, Nurse Joy said you took off without half your team! Where have you been!?”

“Kid, I say this with all due respect- and by that I mean not a lot- who the fuck do you think you are? My mom?”

“I’m a friend who’s concerned about you making stupid mistakes that could get you hurt! What if you got attacked by a Ghost Pokemon and had your memories messed with again!?”

“Hey, I can handle myself just fine against some dumb ghosts. I’m offended by how little you think of me, show some respect. You’re talking to a badged trainer!”

“Oh so now my opinion doesn’t matter, because you have a badge and I don’t!?”

“I mean I didn’t say that, but you might be on the right track.” Mark laughed.

And by that he meant he hadn’t ever really taken Casey’s opinions seriously. It was nothing personal, just that the kid was only 18, almost a full decade his junior, and had zero real life experience.

“You- You- You can’t just brush off people’s concerns!”

“Maybe not everyone’s, but when it comes to Pokemon and how I live my life? I can absolutely brush off yours.”

“How can you say that!?”

“Have you fought a single battle since you got your trainer license?”

“...”

Casey’s silence was damning.

“That’s what I thought.” Mark snorted and pushed his way past the scrawny prettyboy. “Come back when you’ve actually done something, meanwhile I’ll be out catching legendaries and becoming champion.”

“Catching legendaries??” Casey whispered under his breath as his anger welled up. “This is what I’m talking about!” He ran back in front of Mark, stopping him in the doorway.

“It’s like you think everything is a game! You walk around all cocky, as if you think you already know what’s going to happen. You’re going to get yourself and your team hurt! It’s pissing me off!”

“It pisses you off? Ha! You want to know what pisses me off?”

Marcus scowled and leaned down.

“What pisses me off is people like you. You talk a big game, but refuse to put your foot in the mud with everyone else. High ranking officers who pull every string in the book to keep from seeing actual combat, and then pin themselves a medal for running away. Limp dick bureaucrats who write laws about things they don’t know shit about, destroying hundreds of jobs because they want to be more ‘ethical’ or some bullshit. Trainers who haven’t fought a single battle, and have all their expenses paid for by mommy, but think they can lecture me about what I choose to do.”

Mark growled and poked Casey in the chest.

“You don’t get to do nothing and then go around acting all high and mighty, looking down on everyone else from your supposed moral high ground.”

“You’re still not taking me seriously. You’re not taking anything seriously.”

“Nope. Nothing here has given me a real reason too, yet. Now get out of my way.”

Casey clenched his fists and looked up at the old soldier in defiance.

“No.”

“I’m sorry, repeat that for me?”

“I said no. You’re going to have to make me move. I’m going to make you take me seriously.”

“You’re serious? You finally muster up the courage for a fight, and it’s against me? Ha!” Mark leaned his head back and let out a hearty laugh that pulled the attention of the people eating inside. “Oh this’ll be good. Come on then, let’s settle this now. There’s a field out back, where I can humble you.”

“I’m not the one who needs to be humbled.”

“You have to earn the right to be proud of yourself, and you haven't earned shit yet, kid.”

Mark turned sharply, with an unintentional flip of his cape, and confidently walked over to the first field that was cleared beside the center for small battles. Casey followed after him, trying his best to push down his nerves and not shrink under the eyes that followed him from the people inside.

Stepping into the trainer quare drawn with cheap chalk caused his breath to hitch and catch in his throat. It was a scene out of every dream he’d had his entire life.He was going to have a Pokemon battle, he was going to finally be a real trainer- the only thing he had ever wanted.

But his opponent was so much scarier than anything in his dreams had been.

Mark stood across the field with his arms crossed and a wide fanged grin. His eyes gleamed hungerly under the fluorescent light streaming from the Pokecenter windows, and under the spotlight a wicked scar was clearly visible on his face. A harsh, discolored cut of skin ran from his neck upwards and licked up over the left side of his jaw.

When you toss in the fact he was wearing combat boots, thick leather gear that was reinforced with metal plates, and had a black cape billowing behind him like a movie villain, he looked every part of the future-champion that he boasted about being.

No. That wasn’t right. Mark had never claimed he was a ‘future-champion’- well, he had, but it was never the important part of what he was talking about.

Mark had explicitly said what type of person he was dozens of times before, but it was only in this moment, staring him down across a battlefield, that Casey fully understood.

This was a fighter. This was someone who would punch and claw his way to the top, and forcefully drag the Champion of her throne with bloody hands, just to sit in it himself.

“What? Getting cold feet? I wouldn’t blame you for chickening out.”

“I’m not chickening out of anything.” Casey’s jaw clenched as the mocking brought back memories of all the name calling and bullying he’d endured in the past.

He gripped Hatenna’s Pokeball off his belt, since he knew she had been spoiling for a fight but before he could throw her out, the grip on his neck tightened.

“R-Ralts.”

Little Ralts, his shy and timid partner, who hid at even the smallest attention from strangers, pushed his head in the air and volunteered to battle. 

“You sure buddy?” His trainer asked softly.

“Ral.”

Casey was his friend, his trainer, his partner, and he wouldn’t let someone insult him like this, no matter who they were.

“Alright then. Ralts, I choose you!”

Casey turned around to let Ralts jump out of the bag, and he only stumbled slightly as he landed in the area.

“Alright Shelgon, let's show these guys how it’s done. Mess them up!”

The dragon materialized in the air and crashed down like a cannonball. The dramatic entrance worked like a charm, and both Ralts and Casey suddenly seemed much less confident.

“I can do this, I can do this.”

Casey closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath.

“I can do this.”

He didn’t see the tiny flash of gold that briefly illuminated the outline of ghostly chains that wrapped around the arm that he had used for the handshake , but he did hear a whisper in his ear, repeating the terms of the deal he had made in the deep woods.

I guarantee you become a Pokemon trainer capable of rivaling the Champion herself

Casey opened his eyes and the soft purple had been burned away by a harsh glowing pink.

Pink met Red and the battle began.

-Chapter End-

Mark is such a fun character to write, he’s the best kind of stupid that you don’t see often in media. I don’t mean he’s stupid in the literal sense, he’s plenty smart, and can be cunning as a fox. Wickedly cunning when pushed against a wall- going for the eye to blind? Ouch. (We’re going to see more of that as time goes on and he’s forced to stop treating this as much like a vacation.)

He’s just a fucking dumbass.

And not in the way that characters like Ash or Naruto or Goku are, where they’re pretty incompetent at numbers and book smarts but prodigies in their fields of expertise.

No, he’s decently intelligent, but Mark is just a normal dumbass. He’s the guy who’ll hide sodas in his jacket and sneak them into the theater for everyone, only to bust them open by sitting on them.

*Sips Hot Chocolate*

And now the destined first rival fight finally happens, with two starters facing each other, and we get a question on our hands. The fae curse butts heads with someone branded by the dark god of the setting (granted he’s mostly stuck somewhere else at the moment)- which gives out first?

*Sips Hot Chocolate*

Join the Discord with code YmWYB9uupx

Or join the Pa treon at Z75 for access to a chapter ahead in all my books!

*Sips Hot Chocolate*

A giant thanks to the generous people who help get these chapters out faster, and get early access to a chapter ahead of what's out for the public, as thanks and to suggest changes.

The members of the Shadow Government, who funnel taxpayer funds directly into my corrupt wallet! Long may they reign!

JackHammer! (The Jeweled Smasher), Helios (The Honored!), MidnightHydro! (The Mighty!), 0RB! (The 0pulant!), Nuckles222 (The Nuclear Threat!), Wolfwind01010 (The Wonderous!), Rom Hack (The Robotic Housekeeper!), Indyk (The Insatiable Imperial!), NickPine (The Nefarious!), VidDav FerDeL (The Villainous!), and Turquoise (The Toxic Terror!)

The Champions! Leading the fight!

Nvsoulsborne, ShelDrake, Gage Donaldson , Thrawn, PrisonDictator, and Adante!

The Dollar Army! Marching with honor and glory!

Phil, Eledu, Blue_port, WiseKitsune, Jac, Alex Estrugo, Jaydon Adams, Elenium935, Nyte, David Phan, Max Buckner, Spam2Spam, GrimDeathKnight, Hamza Abfallah, thegodfather, Aswin Suthan, wGLeblanc, EngineerLife24, CideredApples, Prince of Ruin, SILENGE, Lord_of_Pola, DerHochi, Savage Scorpion, Anima, Summers Mori, Slowchoke, Jacob Roy, Seanfrks, Diavolo, Brayden, Ecos920, VeryNiceCoat, Jerome Francis Lucasan, James Clifton, Corey Barber, SDA SPO, daniel, and Red!

And a special SPECIAL thanks to :

NickPine, MidnightHydro, and VidDav FerDeL!

Who have chosen to sub to the highest “Humanitarian” tier which I put up after my Bank got hacked and I lost a lot of money.

Thank you all so much, you are my Heroes.

Chapter Text

-The Dragon King-

-New World Blues: Ch 7-

Dear Professor Rowan

I tracked down the two trainers you told me about, and I can confirm the rumors are true, one of them managed to catch two different Fairy types. His name is Casey Ranger and I can’t tell you why or how he managed it because I genuinely don’t have a clue. He has no experience as a trainer and is less qualified in every single way than the Ace trainers you’ve recruited to help you track Fairies down before.

But somehow he succeeded where they, Lucas, I, and even you failed.

I don’t even know what to say about that. But nothing about Fairies tends to make sense, so him managing to catch them kind of does make it make sense? It’s weird.

Attached to this email are the scans and notes of both of his Pokemon. I’m aware that Ralts are incredibly Human shy, on top of being rare, so that data will interest you. Hatenna, on the other hand, you’ll need to call your contacts at the League, because I KNOW those aren’t native to Sinnoh. Well, we didn’t think they were native to Sinnoh, anyway.

What regions have which species is a mess that I’m not going to wade into, frankly. It always devolves into politicians at each other’s throats and eco groups making themselves as much of a pain as possible.

I was just a baby during it, but I assume you remember back when Kanto managed to get ahold of a Dratini egg, and started breeding them? Breaking the Blackthorn clan’s “monopoly” on Dragonite? Johto threw a total fit, and it almost led to a repeat of the Brother’s war- something only averted when Kanto’s missing champion swept both regions, took the crown of champion for both, and then disappeared- leaving both their governments in disarray. 

Sinnoh lacks the historic rivalry with Galar that Kanto has always had with Johto, not to mention Galar is both one of the furthest regions away from us, and also much more concerned with Kalos at any given time. So war isn’t much of a concern- not that it should ever be, it’s been almost 40 years since the Kanto-Jhoto Brother’s war, and I seriously doubt anyone would want to break the golden age of trade and science that we’re currently in thanks to world wide peace.

But I could see difficulties popping up with the Galarians if they think Sinnoh intentionally poached the Hatterene line for breeding purposes.

I know I’m getting off track, but the thought of finally having consistent Fairy samples to study has my brain thinking in circles about bigger picture things.

Marcus Cross is the trainer with a Bagon- now a Shelgon, since he triggered an early evolution, but I’ll come back to that.

He’s a decent battler, but isn’t really anything special worth your time or your sponsorship. His most stand out features are his ego and HORRIBLE attitude. He might just be the rudest person I’ve ever met in my life.

Attached are the scans and measurements of his Bagon before evolution. He made me pay him a Pokeball to get these, so I’m writing it down as a lab expense.

The final file I’ve attached to this email is something I really want you to take a look at. It’s the TE readings around both Marcus and Casey that my Pokédex recorded when I was near them today.

I know I’m not your longest serving lab trainer, but I’ve never seen anything like this before, especially not from trainers with only one and two Pokémon respectively.

These readings seem more like the ambient TE you would see around an Ace Trainer with a full monotype team.

Bagon managed to force an early evolution because Mark is putting out Dragon energy like he has dozens of S grade dragon evolution stones in his pockets, and Casey is the same Fairy with Fairy TE! (Yes I know those kinds of stones don’t exist, it’s hyperbole.)

This is so far past “overdosing” that it’s not even funny, and I’m worried for their health and mental states.

Since your assignment made me miss the _ contest, and it’s not going to be held again for several months, I’m going to keep an eye on these two. Both for my own curiosity, and because I know you would ask me too anyway.

You owe me big for this, so you better come and watch one of my contests when you have the free time.

-Dawn Berlitz, lab trainer.

-The Dragon King-

Ah crap, Ralts Ralts Ralts, what did Ralts’s stat chart look like? Mark used to be obsessed with this stuff as a kid, but remembering that far back was hard to do on command. He knew Ralts had shit stats, but what it did have was specked into its specials and (surprisingly) speed, if he was remembering correctly.

There was a decent chance he wasn’t remembering correctly, but there was a perfect solution to that. 

Brute force past the problem.

“NOW!”

Ralts startled at Mark’s sudden shout, and Shelgon sprung into action, doing exactly what Mark had whispered to the Pokeball before throwing it.

“Start charging and at the signal use a full power Dragon Breath. We’ll wipe him out before he can even react.”

A torrent of blue flames rushed across the field, easily outperforming any Dragon Breath Shelgon had managed before evolving.

The wave of dragon fire washed over Ralts with a rush of fiery death! And it… fizzled out on contact?

Mark’s brow furrowed as he watched Ralts’ ambient Fairy TE neutralize the Dragon TE like a base would an acid.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, they got retconneed into that stupid Fairy type, didn’t they? And Dragon’s completely ineffective against it, instead of just being not very? Now I’m remembering why I never bothered finishing X and Y.”

That meant no STAB bonus for Shelgon, (if that even existed here) but that was fine- they had done more with less.

“But what the fuck are Fairies weak against? Fairys? Fairies? Fareyes?” 

Mark asked in the way that only someone who refused to play anything after the Black and White sequels could- it wasn’t his fault all the 3D games were shit, the ones he played as a kid were obviously the best.

He scratched his chin and snapped his fingers, as if trying to magic the answer into existence.

“It was Steel and something. Steel and Electric? Was it Water? No, it was Electric, I’m pretty sure.”

Meanwhile on the field, Shelgon didn’t wait for Mark to finish musing (not that Mark wanted him to), and immediately followed up with Ember.

“Ralts, Light Screen.”

“Ral!” 

The feeling pokemon raised his stubby little arms and a pink glass-like barrier shimmered into existence, just in time to catch the Ember.

Most of the small flaming bullets exploded harmlessly against the barrier, only causing small cracks, and the few that managed to punch through were weakened considerably. Add in the fact that Ralts was small enough for most of them to miss, and Ember was just about as effective as the previous attack.

In layman’s terms: it didn’t do jack shit.

“Get physical and smash through it!” Mark commanded. “Bite!”

“Ralts, jump to the side and use Growl.”

Light Screen was geared specifically to defend against the blasts of pure TE that comprised special moves, but breaking through it still slowed Shelgon down enough for Ralts to Growl and hop away.

“Equalize with Leer, and don’t let up. Chase him down!”

Shelgon’s eyes glinted red, and the air around his face seemed to darken. Ralts stumbled in fright as the small wave of normal TE rolled over him, spiking his panic and lowering his defense. 

Before he could recover his footing. Shelgon slammed into him with a Headbut that sent the little psychic skipping across the ground like a stone.

“Nice hit! Keep it going!”

“Disarming Voice.”

Shelgon made a running jump towards fallen Pokemon, intent on crushing him under his bulk, but that plan went incredibly wrong as Ralts tilted his head back and cried out.

A visible pink sound wave rippled out, slamming into Shelgon with enough force to overcome his bulk and knock him back mid-leap.

“Shelgon!” Mark called out in shock as he watched his partner crash into the ground with enough force to crater the dirt. “What the fuck was that, Casey!? It hit harder than Cranados did!”

Casey didn’t answer, he just continued staring creepily out at the field, like he had been the entire match.

“Whatever, keep your damned secrets, I don’t need ‘em! It’s probably some Fairy type bullshit, anyway.”

“ Bullshit is a funny way to describe your single largest weakness. It would be healthier for you to fear properly.” Casey spoke for the first time since the match started, that wasn’t a direct order to Ralts.

His voice sounded off, almost like he was shaking small chimes behind his back when he spoke.

“There’s nothing for me to fear, I know my boy’s not gonna go down to some wimpy ass pink attack! Look at him! He’s already ready for more!”

Marcus grinned wolfishly as Shelgon forced himself to his feet, looking royally ticked off.

A hairline fracture had reopened from the Gym fight, and small wisps of steam were coming off of the part of Shelgon’s shell that had taken the brunt of the attack, but it hadn’t been a knockout blow. Shelgon were notorious bruisers who could shrug off crippling damage, so Mark was being accurate, if arrogant about it.

“Light Screen, then Calm Mind.”

“Stop him! Ramming speed!”

Shelgon crashed through the transparent barrier like a wrecking ball, but once again he was too slow to prevent Ralts from getting off a status move- and the Screen had kept Ember from being able to interrupt it as well.

Mark had to begrudgingly admit to himself that Casey was apparently a much better trainer than he’d been giving him credit for. But that didn’t mean he was going to lose here!

“Disarming Voice.”

“Protect! Block it and then return fire!”

The attack crashed against Protect, as it flickered into existence, and washed over the green dome like a wave of water.

Protect dropped, and the Fairy only had a second to register Shelgon’s smug “mine’s better” face, before he was drowned in a barrage of fire.

Ralts yelped in pain as the Ember exploded on contact, but managed to to throw up Light Screen, rendering the rest of the attack nearly harmless- said Light Screen shattered as a Dragon crashed through it yet again with full speed Tackle.

“Flatten.”

Shelgon went wide eyed as Ralts dropped to the ground to slide under him.

“Psybeam.”

And shot a pink laser beam straight into Shelgon’s belly, dragging it down his shell as he passed over.

The dragon howled as the beam tried to filet him, but that was only the beginning. Ralts danced to his feet with a clear view of Slegon’s back, and-

“Disarming Voice.”

-Sent the dragon tumbling to his side with another Fairy attack. The Fiary TE hissed and bubbled against Shelgon’s natural Dragon TE, and ate away at it like an acid, doing far more damage than the move normally should. It was Super Effective.

“Shit, this fucker hits hard. Shelgon, play it safe and throw down some Leers, we need to turn the next lucky hit into a one shot KO.”

But Shelgon didn’t do that, instead he roared as he pulled himself off of the ground and launched himself like a cannonball at Ralts.

“Back off and circle around, twenty paces clockwise.”

“Shelgon, no! Fall back!”

“Jump.”

Shelgon ignored Mark, and instead bulldozed towards Ralts, then under Ralts as he jumped, and right into the large rock that Casey had directed him into without him even realizing it. 

But the rock he hit didn’t slow him down at all, like they were expecting, instead it exploded as Shelgon bulldozed through it.

That was way too much oomph to be a Headbut.

“YEAH! New move! At least I think? Let’s go! Hit ‘em with it and end it now! Take Down!”

“Psybeam, sweep his legs.”

A pinkish-purple beam swiped horizontally across the field, and the proud Dragon was toppled to the ground yet again.

“Calm Mind.”

“What the fuck are you doing!? We can’t let him keep stacking those! Get up and use Bite!”

The crowd at the windows of the Pokecenter grew as the fight continued, and people were naturally drawn over to the commotion.

Shelgon roared and lunged at Ralts with a Bite.

“Disarming Voice and dash away.”

“Don’t fucking let it! Push through!”

Ralts let out another cry of weeping bells that felt like it drilled into Shelgon’s ears and started boiling him from the inside out, but he forced his way through the attack. Massive fangs of pure Dark energy grew out of his mouth and clamped down on the fairy before he could escape again.

“RAA AAA !”

Ralts let out a cry of pain, but Shelgon didn’t have an ounce of mercy. Now that he finally had the stupid psychic bastard, he started viciously trashing him back and forth, slamming him into the ground repeatedly.

“Yeah! That’s right, mess him up! Super effective dark attack!” Mark laughed, completely confident and equally as completely unaware that Ralts’ dual Fairy type removed that weakness.

Roark had been horrified when Bagon did a similar thing to his Geodude, but Casey was just smiling. Smiling and staring ahead with wide unblinking eyes.

“Draining Kiss.”

Mark didn’t recognize the move name, which is how he immediately knew it was trouble.

“Toss it away!”

But Shelgon refused to give up his advantage, and Ralts was able to latch onto Shelgon’s face and give him a light peck on the cheek.

“ROOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

The people inside the Pokecenter flinched away as Shelgon let out a howl of agony. Fairy energy flooded into him like molten magma, then twisted like a knife, and was sucked back out, taking as much as it could with it.

Shelgon collapsed to his knees as his legs gave out under him, and cracks reopened all along the side of his shell.

Ralts skittered away, now glowing with a light pink aura that healed his injuries until he was better than he was at the start of the fight.

“Shit! Use Dragon Breath at the ground, make a smoke screen and fall back to regroup!”

Mark’s words echoed distantly in Shelgon’s mind, like someone shouting at him from underwater. Every inch of his body was screaming in agony, and the world around him faded away as his vision filled with red, red, red. All that existed at that moment in time was him, and the prey escaping him.

“SHELGON!”

The Dragon lurched to his feet, and drunkenly rushed forwards. His legs were on fire as he forced them to gallop faster and faster, picking up as much speed as possible.

His eyes gleamed as Normal TE pumped through his form, wrapping around his legs and pushing him ever faster. No more games, he would end this with one shot, one Take Down.

“Ralts, Confusion.”

Pain exploded behind Shelgon’s eyes as his vision rended in two.

But he kept going, using the pain as fuel to keep moving. 

“Confusion.”

Shelgon stumbled at the second hit, but refused to let himself fall. Ralts was so close, he was right there !

“Confusion! Quickly!” Casey shouted with the only emotion he’d displayed all match.

A third attack hit him, and it was simply too much for his battered body. One of Shelgon’s legs gave out and he crashed to the ground, carving a trench in the dirt that stopped just short of Ralts.

This time, the Dragon did not rise again.

Mark stared at Shelgon with a blank expression, and muffled clapping from behind the Pokecenter window slowly worked its way into the back of his head like a rusty sewing needle.

He’d been defeated, and it hadn’t even been close. That stupid stupid fairy type that was just sitting there without so much as a single scratch, after having humiliated him.

Across the field, whatever zen state that Casey had slipped into, disappeared as Mark withdrew Shelgon, and the battle ended. He blinked his eyes for the first time since the match began, once again turning them purple.

“Oh my goodness! Ralts! Are you alright!?”

Casey started rushing to his poor Pokemon who had been beaten so roughly, but a steel toed boot came down between them, blocking his path.

“M-Mark! Hey, i-it was just a battle, no hard f-feelings, right?”

The Fairy trainer backed away, as Marcus marched over, towering over him.

“Listen here, friend. There’s two things you need to know.” Mark jabbed a finger into Casey’s chest, and the shorter boy shrank as he looked up at Mark’s burning eyes. 

“First off, this doesn’t mean shit in the long run. I’m still going to be the one to beat Cynthia- not you.”

“W-Wait-“

“Second, all you did today was give me a list of problems to fix. That’s it- you accomplished nothing for yourself beyond a short term win.”

“That’s not-“

“And third, the next time I see you, you better be ready.”

Casey jumped a little as his back hit the wall of the Pokecenter, and Mark’s metal glove came down next to his head, pinning him in place.

“Because I’m going to fucking destroy your team to get even for this.”

Casey’s shaking died down, and he looked up at Mark curiously.

“…Like a rival?”

“Like the worst kind of rival.” Mark corrected. “The one who jumps you at the end of Mt Moon, after your team's half dead from drowning in grunts, and then kicks your teeth in and takes your money.”

For a brief, brief, second burning red met searing pink. Then they blinked and their eyes returned to normal.

Casey met Mark’s challenge with a wide smile.

“I look forward to it, rival. ” 

“Don’t patronize me, kid.” Mark snorted and marched away. “You’re only making your life harder in the future.”

Casey watched Mark stomp off around the corner, smiling all the while.

He had a rival! He was a totally legit trainer now! Everyone knew that all the best trainers had rivals! He’d even won his first battle!

The sudden realization had him freezing in place, before scooping Ralts up and jumping into the air.

“We did it! Ralts! We won!”

“Raaal!

He spun around with Ralts in celebration, and he could feel Hatenna’s Pokeball wiggling on his belt, eager to join in on the fun.

“Oh this is grand! We’ll have to celebrate tomorrow! Maybe we can go out and get some ice cream? What do you think about that?”

“Ralts!”

“Good! You can get as much as you want, and whatever flavor you want! Same for you, Hatenna.”

Casey hugged his giggling Ralts tight, and started skipping off. 

He made it halfway back to his hotel room before something about what Mark said clicked in his head.

“…Wait. Wasn’t that three things?”

-The Dragon King-

-One Hour Later-

…

..

.

Mark sat alone in the dim hallways of the Pokecenter. The sun had long since gone down, and everything but the center’s main lobby had been closed up- hence the lack of proper lights. Shelgon was apparently having a bad reaction to the Fairy TE still in his system, and Joy wanted to keep him overnight, not just to keep an eye on him, but also make sure the cracks in his shell from the Gym fight healed properly after being reopened.

They wouldn’t be able to leave town for several days, until Shelgon was fully healed.

He’d been in this word for a full fucking month and he was right back where he started, stuck in the goddamned Pokemon Center.

BANG

Mark slammed his fist so hard into the metal armrest of the chair that he dented it. Pain raced up his arm, but he ignored it- it only fed fuel to his anger.

What the Hell was he even doing?! Running around playing rockstar? Spending money on capes? What was he, a teenager!? He’d burnt through three quarters of his winnings in a single day, like some drunk college student!

“Get your fucking head in the game, Mark!” He snarled as he pushed himself to his feet and started pacing.

He was a soldier, he’d survived in the military. Not only did he get into officer school, he clawed his way through to graduation!

He wasn’t a genius, not even close, Hell he was barely above average intelligence, but he consistently kept up with people twice as smart as him by being cunning and being fucking mean when he had to be!

He beat people twice as smart as him. And if he couldn’t, then he grabbed them by their ankle and dragged them down into the mud, where their brains didn’t mean shit in a fist fight.

But here he was, in candy land, where Ash Ketchup regularly takes down wannabe gods with the power of friendship and believing in the heart of the cards- and he fucking LOST!

He got his shit kicked in, TWICE! Looking back, he couldn’t even call that win against Roark a victory, Shelgon’s evolution had just been pure luck! They had been screwed before that happened.

His pacing took him to a large map of Sinnoh embedded in the hallway wall. An entire region, full of Ace Trainers, monstrous Pokemon that kept the wilds from being colonized, conspiracies that could destroy the entire world, and people half his age who could stomp him like a bug .

And he hadn’t even managed to get past the weakest city.

“No more games. I’m gonna take this whole fucking world by storm!”

The map’s plastic cover shattered as his fist crashed into it, cracks racing out in all directions. The largest one cut the reflection of his face in half, which stared back at him with two miscolored eyes- one a chilling icy blue, the other a burning crimson red.

“And no one will be able to stop me.”

-Chapter End-

-Arc: New World Blues : End-

Yeah, Mark lost the rival fight. There’s definitely ways he could have won, it wasn’t an impossible battle, but it just didn’t pan out. The type disadvantage, stacked with Shelgon’s shit movepool, stacked with Shelgon’s habit of not following orders when he doesn’t feel like it, stacked with the fact Mark went in underestimating Casey and Ralts just was too many things against Mark.

But if I had to point to the single biggest culprit it would be Shelgon’s move pool. They’ve been crutching hard on Dragon Breath so far this fic, which was completely ineffective, then Light Screen made Ember useless, and getting close just meant Draining Kiss was in range- not to mention Ralts is’t actually weak to Dark moves anymore thanks to the Fairy typing, so Bite was only doing average damage.

But, let’s be honest, as funny as the last chapter was, Mark needed the loss to kick him back into gear.

*Sips Hot CHocolate*

On another note, I’m debating how much I want to bring up Mark’s backstory on Earth, with the war and apocalypse and all that. I have to do it to at least a small extent, even if only because let’s be real- at least a third of his character can probably be traced back to unresolved issues that he’s been “just man up” throughing for forever. 

(It's waaaay cheaper than therapy, let me tell you.)

But I also really don’t want to make it a frequent point that pulls away from the reason you’re reading this fic- the fact it’s a Pokémon story.

Besides, Mark’s the type of guy to push down trauma and pretend it never happened, even if it’s unhealthy in the long run. So he’s not exactly the character to spend his days reminiscing and crying over what he’s lost all the time- just ignore it and move on. You’re gonna let some imaginary thoughts hurt you? What are you, weak?

“We don’t have time for an emotionally scarring backstory, Mark.”

“Yeah, well maybe I should give you an emotionally scarring front story.”

*Sips Hot Chocolate*

Join the Discord with code YmWYB9uupx

A giant thanks to the generous people who help get these chapters out faster, and get early access to a chapter ahead of what's out for the public, as thanks and to suggest changes.

The members of the Shadow Government, who funnel taxpayer funds directly into my corrupt wallet! Long may they reign!

JackHammer! (The Jeweled Smasher), Helios (The Honored!), MidnightHydro! (The Mighty!), 0RB! (The 0pulant!), Nuckles222 (The Nuclear Threat!), Wolfwind01010 (The Wonderous!), Rom Hack (The Robotic Housekeeper!), Indyk (The Insatiable Imperial!), NickPine (The Nefarious!), VidDav FerDeL (The Villainous!), and Turquoise (The Toxic Terror!)

The Champions! Leading the fight!

Nvsoulsborne, ShelDrake, Gage Donaldson , Thrawn, PrisonDictator, and Adante!

The Dollar Army! Marching with honor and glory!

Phil, Eledu, Blue_port, WiseKitsune, Jac, Alex Estrugo, Jaydon Adams, Elenium935, Nyte, David Phan, Max Buckner, Spam2Spam, GrimDeathKnight, Hamza Abfallah, thegodfather, Aswin Suthan, wGLeblanc, EngineerLife24, CideredApples, Prince of Ruin, SILENGE, Lord_of_Pola, DerHochi, Savage Scorpion, Anima, Summers Mori, Slowchoke, Jacob Roy, Seanfrks, Diavolo, Brayden, Ecos920, VeryNiceCoat, Jerome Francis Lucasan, James Clifton, Corey Barber, SDA SPO, daniel, and Red!

And a special SPECIAL thanks to :

NickPine, MidnightHydro, and VidDav FerDeL!

Who have chosen to sub to the highest “Humanitarian” tier which I put up after my Bank got hacked and I lost a lot of money.

Thank you all so much, you are my Heroes.

Chapter Text

A commenter named Rae made a VERY good point about my interpritation of Ghost types being actual ghosts- mainly the fact that they can't be dead people because they can lay eggs.

That's a remarkably good point, and something I hadn't thought about, but it's also just as big of a contradiction in the games themselves. Yamask and Phantump both are said to be dead humans, but you can just... hatch more of them? IDK dude, your guess is as good as mine.

-The Dragon King-

-Arc Start: Redline-

-Redline: Ch 1-

Marcus Cross slammed the door to the cheap Pokecenter room he’d been allowed to temporarily rent out after obtaining his badge. He was back from the Pokemart, and had exactly three new things with him; a leather bound notebook, a rectangular out of date cassette recorder, and a large roll of thick yellow paper tucked under his arm.

“Alright Mark, you’ve had your fun, and got burnt for it- time to put your brain to work and start getting shit done.”

The heavy roll of paper slapped down on the table, and rolled out to reveal a map of the world. Or rather, a map of the known world.

Mark clicked the red button on the cassette, and started planning.

“The place I’ve found myself is not Japan. It’s similar but the shape’s off, it’s too thick.” He mused, tracing a finger around the edge of the island chain that Sinnoh sat atop of.

“Game Freak based the first four regions off of parts of Japan, so either this world is more different than I thought, or the map is partially guesswork.”

This world did have limited space travel, and at least a satellite or two, so he would at least trust the big picture things, like continental outlines, oceans, and mountain ranges.

“The map represents humanity’s knowledge of the world, and most of the detailed portions of the map are around the named regions with established Pokemon Leagues. Detail drops off once you leave the rough borders, and continues to do so exponentially as you get further away.

“This implies that the wilds are scarcely explored and that humanity, even with all the wonders of modern civilization, has found itself pushed to the fringes of the world.”

Mark frowned at the monstrous drawings that didn’t resemble any Pokemon he knew, which littered the least detailed parts of the map. It was similar to the ‘here be dragons’ warnings on old medieval maps, except these had every possibility of being real.

The long stretch of land between Sinnoh and the southern regions was a no man’s land of unexplored danger, with only a few minor villages scattered in between. But the map key even went so far as to have a note warning about the accuracy of these, as they are usually too isolated for frequent communication, and every year Rangers find dozens of small settlements outside the regional borders completely razed to the ground- destroyed by wild Pokemon.

Kanto and Johto were on the lower part of the massive island, directly far south of Sinnoh, right next to each other and divided by Mt. Silver. To the west of them was Hoenn, which was only tethered to the main island by the slimmest of land bridges.

“Travel by sea seems to be the main method of mass transportation, which would explain why every region has a coastline.” Mark traced his finger off the island, and followed the proudly labeled sea routes across the oceans, which were displayed a hundred times more prominently than the ones on any Earth map.

“The world is split into four separate continents, and this world's version of Japan, named the Jinzu Isles on the map, is located off the coast of a landmass that looks vaguely like someone smashed China and the Siberian tundra together. There are scattered ports and towns along the coastline there, but no one has managed to colonize further inland.”

Unova was much closer to Sinnoh than he had anticipated for a region that was supposed to be “Pokemon America”, but it was still a hefty distance- separated by ocean and at least three times farther away from Sinnoh than Kanto and Johto were.

There were other regions further away on the other continents that were either new or from games he didn’t remember, such as Galar, and there were also plenty of isolated islands that had been taken over by humans. Orre and Alola were the largest of these, with Orre being some sort of settler paradise free of any major wild Pokemon.

But Orre was the exception, not the rule; the rule was that the vast majority of the world’s landmass was wild, untamed, sparsely explored, and dangerous.

“If what this map implies is true, then it would be feasible to hide a major base of operations outside of civilization. You could have hundreds of people and Pokemon working at a site, and as long as it’s not visible from space, no one would know unless they randomly stumbled upon it.”

Interesting thoughts for the future. But that was the future, now was now. And as of now he didn’t have the capacity to reliably win a Gym badge, let alone set up a secret military base in the frontier. Speaking of now…

“I need an actual weapon.” Mark frowned as he circled his gaze back to Sinnoh, and the miles and miles of uncharted land beyond its vaguely defined borders.

The metal bat he bought a while back had been doing a decent job of beating the shit out of things, but he needed something with a MUCH bigger punch if he was going to be able to survive when something like a wild Luxray decided to charge past his team and try to take him out directly.

“Guns aren’t outlawed in Sinnoh, but from what I found online, the technology is much less developed and very few companies bother to make them; all of those facts can be chalked up to the fact there are dragons in this world that can sneeze away houses by accident. Pokemon are better weapons than anything back home, and can be found basically anywhere- Silph Co’s Pokeball production is this world’s military industrial complex. But I still want something I can use with my own hands. For now I’ll settle for a melee weapon, but I fully plan to come back to this when I have more resources, preferably sooner rather than later.

“However, even an old reliable M2 Browning, isn’t going to do shit against something like Cynthia’s Garchomp. My main weapon will be my team, and I need to start planning that out.”

The leather notebook dropped to the table with an audible thunk, and opened to the page that Mark had tucked a pen into.

“Bagon, now Shelgon, is my starter and should be my first and last go to pick for any bad situation. He’s going to be the ace on my team that I can count on to power through whatever we’re facing. I’m going to be getting him on a dietary regime that will pump him full of so much food that he’ll be out of the underweight category within a fucking month, and pair it with training that will have him built like a tank.

“He has good battle sense, and can take pain like the best of them. His movepool is lacking, but I have plans to expand it ASAP. His biggest issue is that he has serious problems with consistently disobeying orders. I’ve been willing to overlook that so far, since it’s been working out and Shelgon likely has more battle experience than I do, but it’s gotten out of hand. I fully intend to address this once he’s out of the hospital, but I don’t want to be too heavy handed about it. Having a fighter capable of on the fly reasoning and self action, is a massive boon and it would be foolish to throw that away, especially when Shelgon is always going to be able to react faster to surprises than I can tell him what to do.”

Mark finished jotting down bullet points under “Shelgon” on the left side of the page, and dropped down two empty lines for the next entry.

“Gible is non-negotiable. Not only is Garchomp the most powerful Pokemon in this region, Cynthia has proven that it’s one of the strongest in the world. Easy pick, there’s not much to say about it.”

GIBBLE was written in big letters and circled.

“I don’t remember the specifics, since I never got too far into competitive Pokemon myself, but Garchomp-Tyranitar was an extremely popular duo because of how powerful it is. The abilities sandstorm and sand veil had good synergy, and there was something about the move pool counters I think? Again, I just know it’s good, but I can’t remember all the reasons why.

“I know you could get Larvitar in Platinum, but I can’t remember where for the life of me, so that plan will have to be put on hold temporarily. When I achieve it, however, Salamence, Garchomp, Tyranitar, will be a monstrous lineup that will be hard to stop. But it has some major typing weaknesses that I’ll need to address.”

Tyranitar was put under GIBBLE, and was filled with everything he could remember about the high elo matchup.

“It’s not the first thing that comes to mind, but Gyrados might be a potential solution to the typing problem, just because of the sheer amount of moves it can learn. Flamethrower, Thunderbolt, Ice Fang, Ice Beam, Earthquake, Stone Edge, Hyperbeam, I remember making some crazy move pools for Gyarados out of TMs back in the day. And since Pokémon aren’t limited to four moves here, I could take advantage of that to cover basically every matchup I’d face, as well as adding some needed type diversity to the team.”

Mark paused and scratched his chin in thought.

“Not to mention it also learns a lot of dragon moves, like Dragon Dance, Dragon Tail, and Dragon Pulse, so it could train with the other two dragons on those things. It’s food for thought.

“But do I really want to put in the effort to train a fucking Magikarp? This isn’t the games, I can’t just speed level one by throwing it in and then immediately pulling it out and still getting a chunk of the exp? The anime made a big deal about how much effort you had to put in to get one.”

Graradose was written on the right side of the page with a question mark next to it.

“It’s a definite maybe, I’ll put a pin in it, and circle back to it later for another consideration.

“Other options for a move pool weapon bay include Wigglytuff, and I think Nidoking- I’m not a hundred percent sure on that one, though.”

Wigglytuff and Nidoking went on the “maybe” side of the page, with sketches of Flamethrowers and Hyper Beams around them.

“I have other, less thought out, ideas that have potential for a powerful specialized role, but since I don't have much to say about them, I’ll just list them rapid fire.”

“Vaporion can apparently turn completely into a liquid, which sounds incredibly abusable in battle. Muk with Toxic, Minimize, and Substitute, was something I got crushed by one time back in middle school. A stall Chansey with self heal, leftovers, and a shit ton of HP would be a terror on the battlefield, and could double as a field medic. Butterfree with Double Team and the ability to just vomit status effects at people, would be a great support and a genuine nightmare to deal with.”

The left side of his page quickly filled up, and Mark was happy with the foundation he had laid from just a single planning session.

But there was “the issue” that he had to deal with.

“Fucking Fairy types.” He sneered. “I looked it up on the Pokecenter PC, and Fairies are weak to Steel and Poison, that’s it. And since they are both the main weakness to Shelgon, AND the go to choice of the world’s most annoying brat, I need to find a counter to them.”

He leaned back in his chair and glared up at the ceiling.

“Poison is another point towards a Muk or Nidoking, but Steel is just an amazing type, since it naturally resists 11 out of the 18 Pokemon types. Metagross and Lucario are good Steel types that have good secondary typings that would add coverage to my team. That’s what I need, coverage- the ability to deal with any situation in front of me.”

Agrron was cool as fuck, but he didn’t need a Steel/Rock, because that would just make his team even weaker to grass and water. A Steel/Dragon would be… interesting. If he was right about the way that dual type weaknesses worked, one of those would lose every normal weakness of a Dragon in favor of Fighting and Ground- it wouldn’t even be weak to Steel’s main weakness of Fire since Dragon resisted that by default.

It would also be immune to Tyranitar’s sandstorm.

It would be a great Pokemon for his team, but sadly even if he wanted a Steel/Dragon, that typing just didn’t exist. Dialga was the only thing he could think of, and that was a legendary, so he’d be stuck with a normal Steel type for now.

Mark’s eyes slid up a few lines on the page.

“Gyrados would cover the Fire and Fighting and Ground weakness of the steel type…” He mulled the thought over. “Okay double pin for Gyrados. It’s a strong maybe.”

Satisfied, Mark made a few more notes and closed the book.

“I just need strong ‘mons. But NO Fairy types, that’s the only restriction. I don’t give a single shit about what kind of things they could help with. They’re a poorly thought out fad that Game Freak shoehorned in, to desperately distract from how dated their combat system is. Fairies don’t make sense, they’re stupid, hairbrained, out of place, retarded, and…”

Mark’s face scrunched up as he struggled for more insults to hurl at his previous least favorite type and newly most hated one.

“… Pink.”

He nodded in satisfaction. That was a good one.

Besides, they were creepy!

But he was getting off track.

To catch more Pokemon to expand his team he needed Pokeballs, which were expensive. As he expanded his team, he needed money to feed them and for gear to train them. Actually, if he had infinite cash, he could just go to a breeder and buy the seeds for a top tier team right now.

But that led to another problem: he wasn’t strong enough to reliably place well in tournaments for prize money, or to win Gym matches for the rewards, and if he couldn’t do those things then no one would want to sponsor him. Hell, he didn’t even have Shelgon at the moment, since that asshole was still in medical care after disobeying orders during a fight.

Mark closed his pen with a click, and tossed it down on the table.

“Time to get creative, and step on some toes.”

-The Dragon King-

Finding the ghost girl was remarkably simple, mainly because she had been doing all the effort for him by stalking him around like his second ex-girlfriend, ever since he won against Roark.

All he had to do was lead her to a dead end in an alleyway, and then trap her so she couldn’t run away.

“I-I-It’s not what it l-looks like! I-I can explain!” The Hex Maniac fumbled over her words as she cowered against a brick wall. “I wasn’t stalking you!”

“Lady, I’ll be honest, I don’t really give a shit right now. I have bigger problems to worry about. However, if you don’t want me to get the police involved, then you need to assist me with a project later today.”

“O-Of course! I’ll help, just please don’t tell Officer Jenny, she already hates me!” 

“Re- lax , lady.” Mark held his arms out and gave her a reassuring smile that was as fake as the ones used by those Magikarp salesmen. “My lips are sealed, and it’ll be like nothing ever happened. Just so long as you help me with this, and don’t chicken out halfway through.”

Helena nodded frantically, with enough force that it messed up her tangled hair even more, and did interesting things to her chest.

“What do I have to do?”

“Meet me in the forest where we knocked out those Galactic grunts, at 2100 sharp! I’ll mark an X into a tree, so you’ll know where it is. Don’t be late, or the deal’s off.” Mark grinned, then, seeing Helena’s confused expression, he added: “That’s 9PM if you’ve never been around the military.”

-The Dragon King-

Later that day, Helena made her way through the forest at the bottom of route 206’s ravine with a growing nervousness gnawing at her gut. Marcus… Well he didn’t seem like a nice guy, but he also didn’t seem like a horrible person. He wouldn’t make her do anything untoward , while alone out here, would he?

She managed to make her way back to the spot at a relatively decent time, and sat under an X that had been carved into a tree with a knife.

Five minutes later, Mark came wading through the trees at exactly 9PM.

He had a roll of duct tape hanging on his belt, as well as a cloth bag that was stained pink at the bottom and smelled funny even from a distance.

He also had a frying pan in his hand. 

…Why did he have a frying pan?

“Oh good, you’re here. I was worried you would be late.” Mark flashed her a smile, before raising the pan and repeatedly bringing it down on a rock outcropping.

CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG

Helena grimaced at the noise, and brought a hand up to massage her ear.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting attention.”

CLANG CLANG CLANG

“Trust me, it’s part of the plan.”

CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG

Mark kept hitting the pan against the rocks until Helena was certain that every Pokemon in a half mile radius had scattered from the noise.

“Say, how many Pokemon do you have? I forgot to ask earlier, but it’s kind of important.”

“I have two, but I’d forgive you for thinking I only have one. Shedinja is the one I mainly use when people are around, since my other Pokemon is, uhm, I love him but he’s a prankster and most people have bad reactions to him.”

Mark waved off her concerns with his gloved hand. “Don’t worry about me, I can handle myself.  Use whichever one is strongest, you’ll need it.”

Helena nodded before reaching into her dress, hesitating for half a second, and pulling out a dusk ball.

“Are you not going to explain why you did that with the pan?”

“Nope.” Mark answered as he tossed the bargain bin piece of scrap to the ground, now completely bent out of shape. “We don’t have time for that, and you’ll figure it out real soon.”

“Right…”

“Now I have everything prepared for and planned out, all you need to do is follow my orders, and tough through it for a little bit. Then you’ll be golden.”

Mark patted the bag on his hip. “I spent the last chunk of my Gym money on this, plus as many Pokeballs as I could afford. And I bought them repeatedly in bunches of ten for the extra Premier ball.”

Helena thought that was strange since that deal had been replaced by Silph Co years ago in order to stop clogging up Pokemart lines, so nowadays you could get the same result by ordering them all at once. But she was too worried about saying something weird or dumb to speak up, Marcus probably had a reason for what he was doing. 

If the pan was any indication, those reasons worked in mysterious ways.

“Additionally I used the hours before this meetup to collect one of my Pokemon from the Pokecenter, and catch several more to help us with this. Come on out!”

Mark pulled three Pokeballs off his belt and tossed them in the air. 

“This is Bidoof1, Bidoof2, and Bidoof4.” He listed off as they appeared. “They will be helping you play distraction, and will be your first line of defense. Bidoof3 has attitude problems, and will be coming with me to the main objective.”

One of the Bidoof wandered over, sniffed at the cloth bag on his belt and pawed at it.

“No, bad hamster! Don’t touch that.” Mark gently slapped him away. “Go get back in line.”

Mark coughed into his fist and assumed the same position that his drill instructors used to do all the time- his feet squared with his shoulders, and his hands clasped behind his lower back.

“Your part of this operation is simple. You will distract and occupy the enemy while I retrieve the mission objective. Once the enemy is alerted to my presence, they will fall back and chase me. When this happens, retreat back to Oreburgh and rendezvous with me in the Pokecenter lobby. Ghost lady, you’ll need these.”

Mark handed over the Pokeballs of the three Bidoof to Helena, and then dragged his steely gaze across the group in front of him.

“Questions?”

The Bidoof started yapping, but because they did not speak English their concerns were ignored, just like the depressed foreign cafeteria lady back in Mark’s old high school.

“Uhm, excuse me.” Helena raised her hand. “Who is ‘the enemy’ you keep talking about? It’s not Galactic is it?”

“That is a good question. But don’t worry, it’s not the Space Stupids. Actually, it’s a wild Pokemon you already know about, and- oh look! Speak of the devil, here she comes now. Look, over in the treeline.”

Helena turned around, and froze as she locked eyes with the massive Ursaring that had come to investigate who was intruding on her territory.

Mark pulled the cloth bag from his belt and tossed it on the ground, where it ripped open to reveal several smelly Poke-lures tied to a slab of raw meat with some tread.

“You will be distracting her .”

Mark scooped the frying pan off the ground and hurled it through the air, smacking Ursaring in the face, and immediately picking a fight with the territorial behemoth.

“Bidoof army, encircle her when she comes into the clearing! Keep your distance and use your small size to avoid attacks. The strategy is to pepper her with Growl and Leer, to weaken her, and then use Quick Attack to get in, deal damage, and get out before she can retaliate. Work together to keep her off of your teammates, and I have complete confidence in your continued health.”

“B-B-Buh Bwi!” Bidoof1 looked up at Mark in abject horror, with tears in her eyes.

“Oh, none of y’all know Quick Attack? Tch, that sucks. Tackle works just as fine for damage, I guess, it just won’t get you back out.”

“Biiii!”

“Oh stop whining, you’ll be fine.” Mark hooked his boot under Bidoof1’s belly and threw her forward with a swing of his foot.  

Bidoof2 and 4 scrambled to follow Mark’s orders, getting distance from the bear and using their status moves. Bidoof1 landed next to 4 with a plop, and immediately made that grouping a juicer target via numbers.

Ursaring roared and rushed towards them, swinging her arm out in a backhand. It slammed into Bidoof4 and sent him flying off into the bushes, but Bidoof1 had just enough experience dodging from the Gym battle to slip under the arm and scuttle away to safety.

Having a Bidoof fly past her head snapped Helena out of her shock.

“Haunter, I need you!”

A purple ghost Pokemon materialized in the air, it still had a mostly gaseous body from its time as a Ghastly, but was able to solidify into a semi-solid when it wanted to- granted it was not as capable of doing this as completely as a Gengar would.

“Quick, hurry and throw out Shel…”

Helena turned and called out to Mark, only to find that he was already long gone.

“You- Youuu- ” Her cheeks puffed out as he realized what happened. “Asshole!”

Haunter swept across the field, buying time for his trainer, and pulling Ursaring’s attention off the beleaguered Bidoof.

A glowing claw passed right through him, as though he didn’t exist, and he nearly doubled over laughing at the look on Ursaring’s face.

Haunter’s laugh scraped like a rusty gate and sounded faintly like screaming. All the Normal type Pokemon instinctively stepped back at the sound, having never seen a Ghost type before, but Helena wasn’t bothered- that was just how her purple boy laughed, and there was nothing wrong with that!

“Haunter, use Venoshock!”

Hanter opened his hands wide, and a swirling black-purple goo formed between his claws.

Poison TE is the physical manifestation of decay and rot, it’s caustic and toxic, and exists as the anathema to anything alive- there was a reason it had such an outsized effect on Fairy types, who were so in tune with life.

The purple glob shot out like a bullet and splattered on Ursaring’s face. She howled and tried to wipe the toxin off as it burnt away at her fur and skin. Meanwhile Haunter’s tongue stretched out and licked the side of her face, lapping up the caustic poison like a tasty snack.

The momma bear lunged forward with a Crunch, but Haunter slipped backwards, and she crashed face first into the tree he phased through.

“HAU HA AaHAUhaAUA HA HHAU A HA!”

Haunter’s terrifying laugh rang out through the woods, as the Ursaring shook her head and spat out wood splinters from the chunk of tree she had just carved out.

Inspired by proof that the massive bear wasn’t actually invincible, one of the Bidoof let out a war cry and charged with a heroic Tackle that bounced off Ursaring’s leg with a thunk.

Ursaring brought her mighty claws down with the same move that missed Haunter, and Bidoof2 went squelch .

The other Bidoof began screaming and started running in circles, but Helena didn’t react beyond a small frown- she was a Ghost trainer, she lived with death.

“Haunter use Venoshock again, and float up so Ursaring can’t reach you with Crunch or Bite.”

“Haunt!”

The Ghost type lazily swam into the air, and started pelting the bear like a kid at an arcade machine.

Poisonous shot after shot slammed into the bear, and while each was dangerous in its own right, it was obvious none of them were going to be enough to put the massive hibernator Pokemon down for good.

“RAOOOO!” Ursaring roared in fury, and burning white light began forming in her mouth.

“Haunter, maybe you should mo-”

The skyline lit up as Hyper Beam surged into the sky and completely wiped Haunter out of existence. 

He was gone, reduced to atoms by the attack. The only thing left was a few scattered clouds of purple fog.

Ursaring panted heavily after putting so much into that, but she had a bloodthirsty grin on her face after killing one of the invaders.

Then the scattered purple mist swirled back together in clumps, revealing that not only was Haunter completely unaffected by the attack, he was laughing himself hoarse at Ursaring’s gobsmacked reaction to his stunt.

He was was laughing so hard that he didn’t even notice the massive spear of rock hurtling at him at mach fuck , until the Stone Edge blasted him out of the sky like an anti air missile.

“HAUNTER!”

Helena shouted and ran over to where her baby boy had fallen. The poor guy was slowly floating back to his “feet” and looked like he was half about to pass out at any moment.

“Haunter, you’re hurt, return.” 

The Ghost made noises of protest, but was returned to the Pokeball all the same.

“This Ursaring is wild, she doesn’t have a trainer, and doesn’t know what Ghost types are immune to. If she’s struggling to figure that out, then she’ll have an even harder time with you.”

Helena pulled her second Pokeball out of her dress and enlarged it in her hand.

“Shedinja!”

-The Dragon King-

Mark slid into the Ursaring’s den, like a skater on really bad ice skates. The hole in the ground was pretty big, considering it had to fit something as large as an Ursaring, but he still had to crouch slightly so he didn’t bump his head.

At the back of the burrow, huddled in a small bed of leaves, was his prize.

“One, two, three, four Teddiursa, what a haul! I only saw her with three when I passed through the forest last time.” Mark whistled in appreciation.

Bidoof3 materialized with a flash of light, and immediately started looking around in panic. Mark ignored him in favor of pulling a bunch of empty Pokeballs out of his new energy wallet that he’d liberated from a Galactic grunt.

The Teddiursa barred their teeth at him threateningly, but when he kept approaching, their nerves immediately broke down and they started wailing for help.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you little guys. I just want to take you to a niiiice new home.”

-The Dragon King-

Shedinja’s empty husk flew through the air, like a rock on a string, without a single bodily movement. Whenever Ursaring attacked, its form distorted into a dark shadowy blur as its ability Wonder Guard activated, letting everything that came its way pass through as if it never existed.

It was immune to far more attacks than Haunter, and unlike the purple ghost it actually had a decent number of moves that could affect Ursaring in return.

“Again, use Metal Claw!”

Something behind the shell’s empty eye’s flickered, and the half Halo above it swung out, cutting into brown hide like a bent knife.

Uraring roared, and swiped out again, with yet another useless move.

Then she froze, ignoring everyone else in the clearing, as her ears perked up at a distant sound.

It was the cry of a Teddiursa cub- of her Teddiursa cubs.

Immediately everything else disappeared from her mind, she ignored the attacks, running through Shedinja, and trampling over the remaining Bidoofs to get back to her cubs.

She only stopped a moment at the den to confirm it was empty, with footprints at its entrance and signs of a struggle, before roaring and charging through the forest. She was slow to accelerate thanks to her bulk, but once she got going almost nothing could stop her.

Foliage was trampled into pulp, small trees were knocked over, and any Pokemon in her path had to jump out of her way to avoid getting pulverized.

The cries of her cub was like a homing beacon to her sensitive ears, and in no time at all she had closed the gap.

Ursaring crashed into a clearing with the thunderous roar of a mother wronged, and cut off the kidnapper who dared to touch her litter.

Only, rather than the human she had been expecting, she found a Bidoof.

A single lonely Bidoof, that was cowering up against a log. Its midsection had been wrapped vigorously with duct tape, and the smallest of her cubs was taped to its back, wailing loudly for help.

But there was only one Bidoof, and only one cub.

Where were the rest of her babies!?

With nothing left to do, she descended on the poor Bidoof with a howl of rage that shook the entire forest.

In the complete opposite direction that he’d sent Bidoof off in, Mark grinned like a madman as he booked it back to Oreburgh, now with three newly filled Pokeballs snug on his belt.

-Chapter End-

People are going to disagree with Mark’s use of the Bidoof. He obviously views them as oversized hamsters, not youngster Jimmy’s bestest friend forever. This is going to kick up the perpetual argument over just how smart all Pokemon really are, both in the comments, and probably in the story later on. Some of them are clearly fully sentient and just as, if not more, intelligent than humans- but how far does that go?

Fortunately, I can just point out a detail and sidestep this issue entirely.

This is not a self insert, I’m not a huge fan of those and will never write them. I am not Mark, Mark is not me. I am the author, and Mark is a character in the story that does not know what I know.

That means he can be wrong. Completely and totally wrong in a way that SI’s rarely can be.

I have access to the fandom, the internet, and info on every piece of Pokemon media at a moment's notice. Mark hasn’t played the games since his mid to late teens.

He has meta knowledge, the exact same as every other isekai story on this site, but his is out of date, it has holes in it from forgetting things, it’s flawed . And that makes it just as much of a massive weakness as it is a huge strength.

Also, he’s not a good guy! He’s an asshole who only cares about himself, and the people he likes enough to let stick around. This is a Villain story, come on guys, you knew what you were getting into.

And honestly, isn’t this a bit refreshing? We’ve seen the whole “best wholesome trainer” angle hundreds of times over by now, let’s see someone who can be ruthless and actually have it pay off for him.

Chapter Text

If you want to keep up-to-date on releases, get access to a crap ton of shitty memes, and several channels worth of Bentai, use discord code /Hy7g6UqGQd

Thank you for reading! -Zack, AKA: Z75, AAKA: everyone's favorite asshole

-The Dragon King-

-Redline: Ch 2-

The Brothers war was an armed conflict between Kanto and Johto that devastated both regions and is widely believed to be the single largest loss of life in modern history. The war was fast but incredibly brutal, with Ace Trainers taking advantage of their flying Pokemon’s speed to cross Mount Silver and blitz into enemy territory before proper defenses could be rallied. A group of three Ace Trainers, with 18 Ace level Pokemon between them, could wipe an undefended town off the map in less than 10 minutes.

The “climax” of the war occurred when a young lieutenant named Surge went against orders to intercept and successfully fend off a raid by the Blackthorn Clan and their Dragonite, who had been beelining towards Saffron City- the largest settlement in Kanto. 

For his insubordination, he was discharged from the military, but allowed to keep his rank. For his bravery, he would be awarded with his own Gym Leadership as well as named a Kanto war hero.

The fighting lasted just over a week, before abruptly cutting off. It cut off so abruptly, in fact, that Ace Trainers had to be deployed to physically pull military units out of attacks they had been ordered to do just hours before. The exact reasons are contested by historians, but within a single day both regions went from mobilizing into a war economy to sustain a long term conflict, to agreeing to an armistice and preparing a peace treaty to sign. 

Some say it was divine intervention, some say it was the shock of the rapidly rising body count that ended the bloody war. But all we know is that the war simultaneously deepened the bitter rivalry between the two regions, while also cementing the status quo between them.

That status quo would remain unchanged, until a prodigy trainer would take the title of Champion for both regions, unifying the two positions, and inadvertently create what we now know as the Indigo League.

Mark quirked an eyebrow as he read over old articles on the Pokecenter public PC. Originally he wanted to get a better understanding of the recent history that had been going on before he landed here, but once he stumbled on reports about the last war, it had been the only thing he’d been reading about.

“An eight day war, huh? I wonder what made them stop. Definitely doesn’t sound like something that’d happen back home. Maybe the policy makers here are just wimps.” 

The automatic doors to the building slid open, and he noticed Helena stagger into the Pokecenter, with leaves stuck in her messy hair, and overall just looking rather beleaguered. 

Mark closed the PC and waved at her to come over as he walked over to a table.

“Just to be clear, that was actually your plan, right?” The Hex Maniac asked as she took a seat.

“Yup. It was a classic bait and switch. Worked like a charm, too. We drew her out, distracted her, then I went around back to the den, and snagged the cubs while she was gone.”

“That was dangerous, not just for me but you as well.” Helena said, not sounding particularly upset. “…Arguably you were in the most danger.”

Mark just shrugged. “I’ve been in way worse. It’s nothing new.”

Helena didn’t respond immediately, instead she just stared at his scars- specifically the grisly uneven skin that ran along his neck and licked up on the right side of his jaw.

Wordlessly she withdrew the pokeballs that Mark had entrusted to her, and handed them back.

“Thank you for having your Bidoof stay and act as backup, unfortunately they weren’t exactly as up to the task as you seemed to think they were. One of them got smushed.”

“Don’t worry about it, I got one KIA on my end as well. Ah, but that would explain why the teddy balls didn’t lock when I registered them. Three Teddiursa, two Bidoof, and one Shelgon- I technically only have six Pokeballs active to my trainer ID. Actually, it might only be five since Shelgon’s still in the clinic. Hmm, I’ll have to look into that.”

Helena’s face scrunched up in confusion as Mark popped open a soda can and leaned back in his seat, seemingly unbothered by losing two of his Pokemon. Then her face softened as an idea crossed her mind.

“…you’re no stranger to death, are you?” Helena asked, quietly, sympathetically. 

“What’s that question for? Do I not look appropriately appalled? They were oversized hamsters. While the scale of Pokémon intelligence can match humans, and go all the way up to sentient supercomputer, I heavily doubt the fat rodents known for chewing on tree stumps are that far from rock bottom. They’re on menus, for fucks sake, right next to Mareep, Crabby, and Slowpoke.”

“You don’t have to pretend, or try to put on a tough act. I understand how it feels to lose people you care about.”

“You don’t know shit. ” Mark leaned forward, elbow on the table, and jabbed a finger at her. “Let’s get that straight, okay? You don’t know where I’m from, what I’ve been through, or what I’ve lost. You don’t understand, you’ll never understand, so don’t play the fucking pity card on me. I don’t need it.”

“I-”

“Nuh uh. If you’re going to play that game, you can fuck off.”

His sharp glare didn’t seem to have the effect he wanted, instead of pushing her away, it just seemed to slide off her spirally deep purple eyes. Like water that only managed to wet the grass, instead of striking the dirt. Worse, she actually seemed more invested in the conversation than she had before.

Ah shit, she wasn’t one of those internet masochists was she? Where you couldn’t get them to go away by yelling at them, because they liked arguing?

Helena twiddled her thumbs in her lap, trying to put the words together correctly in her head in a way that wouldn’t embarrass herself like she usually did.

“You’re taking part in the gym circuit, right? That’s going to take you around the entire region, do you plan to try for the entire thing?”

“Of course I am, why would I start something that I don’t intend to finish?” Mark asked, slightly insulted.

“A-Ah, good point.” Helena ran a hand through her hair, wincing as her fingers almost immediately got stuck in her tangles. “Uh, I know this is a bit out of the blue, but I never actually, uhm, finished the circuit when I tried it as a teen. Would you mind if I, uh, you know, maybe tagged along with you?”

Mark’s glare sharpened, and she immediately backpedaled, waving her hands and stammering about how she would pay for her own food, bring her own tent, and wouldn’t be a burden.

Instinctively Mark wanted to kick her out, but he held himself back as the more… ambitious part of his brain started turning.

“-nd I promise you won’t even know I’m there!”

“Stop.” He cut her off. “You didn’t didn’t die to that Ursaring, so you’re most likely not a horrible fighter. You said you were in the gym circuit, how many badges did you get?”

“Four badges.” Helena answered. She fidgeted with her dress for a few seconds, hesitating before continuing. “However I no longer have the Pokemon that I used to earn them. But I assure you my current team is just as good.”

“What happened to your old team?”

Helena didn’t answer, she just stared down at her lap, and tightened her grip on her dress.

“Whatever, I’ll take your word for it. That said, you don’t seem particularly upset about me using you as bait, or my stunt with the Bidoof. Now that I think about it, you were also the one who suggested offing the Galactic grunts and dumping them in the woods, where no one would find them.”

Helena squeaked and sank into her seat, trying to hide behind her bangs. Meanwhile Mark drummed his fingers on the table and looked her over appraisingly.

It would be nice to have four hands on board when trouble inevitably reared its head again, and someone with knowledge of the common local shit he knew nothing about would help him dodge any easily avoidable mistakes.

“I’ll tell you what. You get a shot.”

“Really!?” Helena perked back up in disbelief. “You’ll let a Hex Maniac join you?”

“Sure. But there are rules. I’m the party lead, so you listen to me. When I say something you can question all you want, but you do it. I’m not a charity, I’ll cover the basics as long as you help out, but I’m not going to fund Barbie girl’s makeup kit. I also reserve the right to kick you out at any time. Got it?”

“Of course!” Helena leaned forward onto the table and nodded her head eagerly. Mark had to hold his composure to maintain eye contact, and not let his eyes drift down where the grown woman’s ‘developments’ were doing interesting things while pressed against the table top.

“Just a warning beforehand. I used to be in the military, so I’m trained to march for long hours and with short breaks. I’m not going to slow down much for you.”

“That’s completely understandable. Oh, I need to go call my landlord and start packing!”

Team Galactic knew her apartment address, and now had a reason to hold a grudge since she inadvertently helped Mark beat those grunts black and blue. If she was on the move, then they would have a hard time tracking her down, and would be much less likely to bother her with someone like Mark around.

Besides, if she stuck around him long enough, she might eventually get to see that Ghost Pokemon that had cursed him.

Helena couldn’t help but shiver at the memory of what she had felt appear during that gym battle.

“...You’re making a weird face. Stop that, people are looking at us funny. I’m already known as an asshole, I don’t want to have the rumors saying I’m a perv as well.”

-Dragon King-

It turns out, trying to sell Pokemon for profit was difficult.

He’d asked Nurse Joy if she had any tips, but all that got him was an angry glare and some snide comments. That caused him to look it up online, only to find that the selling of Pokemon was frowned upon in most places. It wasn’t illegal, and breeders specifically were apparently an exception to this rule (everybody loved them), but the practice of hunting down rare exotic Pokemon and catching them to pawn them off was seen as “barbaric” and “two steps from poaching”, according to news articles.

In Unova the practice was heavily regulated, but Sinnoh’s hands off approach to most things meant it was basically a free market here. So that was a rare stroke of luck to Mark’s name. But that still left him with a problem- he had just invested all his money on getting product that no one wanted to buy.

“-and I’m telling you, this is the best deal you’ll ever find! It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, we’re talking pennies on the dollar! …no pennies, I said pennies not Phanpys. PENNIES. It means it’s cheap! Do you not know what a penny is? …Hello?”

Mark cursed and slammed the Pokecenter public phone back into its holster, as the line went dead.

“What a load of BS. I would have shelled out cash for a free Teddiursa towards the start of Platinum. It’d at least spice up the defacto Starter-Starly-Shinx lineup that always happens.”

He sighed and marked off another number on the list of businesses he’d found online- now over three quarters scratched out. But before he could dutifully carry on, he was interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind him.

“There are other phones open, what do you want?” He grunted as he turned around, but instead of an angry grandma or entitled brat, like he was expecting, he found a man in a dark suit and a black fedora.

“What an unintentionally philosophical question. Can anyone ever be certain what they want? Personally I like the thought of making enough money to retire early and never have to worry about anything ever again.”

The man smiled, and Mark recognized him. It was the guy he’d saved from that random Galactic grunt.

“Yeah, well, I also like the idea of being filthy rich, but I don’t think that’s happening anytime soon.”

“You say that, but you’ve also made a remarkably ambitious step towards that goal. Not many have the guts to steal cubs out from under an Ursaring’s nose- especially not with only a single badge to their name. I’m impressed.”

“Impressed. I don’t see why, not even the chumps over in Eterna city are biting.” Mark rolled his eyes before pausing. “Wait, how do you know about that?”

“It’s my business to know things, and make friends with the right people. I couldn’t not hear about the rookie trainer who bested one of Byron’s oldest Pokemon, and then marched around the entire city, going door to door trying to sell untamed Teddiursa cubs, freshly stolen from their mother.”

“Don't get all high and mighty with me, not when you just admitted your life goal is money.”

“I would never dream of doing such a thing! I’m merely trying to say that, you, my friend, have exotic product on your hands, and need to market to a more sophisticated clientele than what you’ll find on the streets.”

The man pulled a matte black business card out of his jacket and handed it to Mark.

“My work planting roots in Oreburgh is almost done, but I still have a few days before I’m scheduled to redirect to Eterna city, and have more basic laborers pick up here. My office is in the freshly renovated warehouse on 7th street. Swing by this evening if you have the chance, my door is always open for business.”

The businessman tipped his hat, and left without another word. Mark watched him go with curiosity, before turning his attention down to the small unassuming card in his hand.

Max Mustermann was the name on it, which HAD to be a fake name.

It was bland and spartan in design, just bone white text on a charcoal background that gave him some basic contact information. It had some ruby lines pressed along the edges, but that was the only hint of color on the card.

Well, at least it was the only hint of color before he tilted it slightly, and a hidden R gleamed crimson under the fluorescent lights overhead.

-Dragon King-

“Cranidos is unable to battle!”

Roark was numb. He felt nothing as he blankly watched his partner fall to the ground. There was no competitive flame in his chest, no pride, no anger, no spark . There was only the distant buzzing in the back of his head and a weight in his pocket from dozens of missed call notifications on his phone.

Across the field, Casey Ranger wordlessly tilted his head. The short boy’s eyes had a faint pink illumination behind them that was similar yet so different from the red glare that Cross had burnt into his mind.

Hatenna stood proudly in the middle of the arena, bruised and panting heavily, but holding her head high and stubbornly refusing to show weakness.

The Gym Leader reached for the final ball on his belt, but as his fingers closed around it he just… didn’t have the strength to pull it free.

This was the second back to back full sweep by badgeless trainers in two days. He had been too ashamed to check his social media or email yesterday, but if by some miracle people hadn’t been making fun of him yet, they would now.

Slowly Roark’s hand slipped off the cold metal of the Pokeball and hung loosely at his side.

“I forfeit.”

There was no audience in the gym to gasp in shock, but he could still hear them anyway, and could feel the steely disappointed stare of his father pressing against his neck.

“Th-The gym leader forfeits the match. The winner is the challenger, Casey Ranger!”

-Dragon King-

Team Rocket wasn’t a threat in this region during the games. Doing business with them might be morally questionable, but Mark had played the games, he knew ahead of time they weren’t going to do anything big enough to be worthy of protagonist intervention. So was it really morally questionable, when he knew they were harmless in Sinnoh’s big picture? 

Besides, Rocket was simple, they just wanted money and influence. Compared to the other bad guy teams, they were firmly on the “lesser evil” end. Galactic wanted to reset the world to get rid of emotion or something. Aqua wanted to sink all the continents into the sea, genociding humanity in the process, because they were vegan for fish. Plasma wanted to get rid of Pokeballs, which were the things that let Humanity hold their own against the terrors of this reality, and evolve from paranoid tribes into a modern society. And Flare was trying to remake an ancient death ray or something. (The story line from X made no sense, how the Hell were they supposed to do that with Xerneas- the life pokemon as a power source?)

Magma, well, Magma wasn’t really too bad. They were kind of like the Dutch on cocaine. Granted, getting rid of most of the ocean would totally fuck the weather over something fierce, and cause mass droughts. But in the long long term (or even if they just did it really slowly), they were onto something. It was free land! No housing shortages here, folks!

These were the thoughts going through Mark’s head, justifying his decision, as he entered the newly refurbished warehouse on 7th street.

Team Rocket was a lot subtler than Galacatic, by a large margin. Instead of neon hair dye, and over the top space suits, the six or so people standing guard at the doors and moving crates around inside were wearing nondescript black uniforms with gloves and gray boots. Most didn’t even have the R on their chest, and the ones that he assumed did just had to throw on a dark jacket to hide it.

Galactic wanted to be seen, to be respected. Rocket clearly didn’t. Which made sense considering A: they were basically the Pokemon mafia, B: their CEO was a man who had been undercover as a Gym leader for years, and C: in the process of trying to set in in Sinnoh, they were being muscled out by Galactic- at least from what he’d picked up in that alley.

One of the grunts opened up a shipping container, and directed him down a hidden flight of stairs, where the setting immediately changed from “WIP industrial” to “old money” the moment he went through the door at the bottom.

Beyond was a waiting room that was small but classy. Polished dark wood panels lined the walls, shining faintly under the soft light of a hanging brass lamp. A deep burgundy carpet covered the floor. The scent of leather mingled with a faint trace of cigars adding to the room’s smoky, old-world charm.

There were no windows, of course, the place was underground, just the soft hum of ventilation and the low, barely audible murmur of activity somewhere beyond the thick wooden door at the far side of the room.

If this was what a Rocket middleman got when setting up a branch in a new region, he’d hate to see how obscene the budgets of their admins were… Actually, no, on second thought he would very much like to see those numbers.

Mark took a seat in one of the five leather chairs arranged in the waiting room, but his attention was somewhere else.

She wore a skin-tight crimson bodysuit that matched her high heels, the fabric clung to her like a second skin. Draped over her shoulders was a thick indigo coat that fell to her knees, making her look bigger and keeping her modest- except when it came to her legs, which were on full display (and, whoa momma, did they draw attention). One sleeve of the coat was cut short, exposing her left shoulder and revealing that the bodysuit ran all the way down her arms, where it ended in fingerless gloves.

On the arm that lacked a sleeve, she had a strange device wrapped around her forearm. It was some kind of tan metallic machine that's only distinguishing feature was the black lens on its front. Maybe it was some kind of industrial flashlight? Either way, it matched with the visor on her face, and made her look more menacing than she probably should have.

She looked familiar in a way that raised red flags in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t place her face to a name or an appearance in canon that he could remember. She definitely didn’t appear in the games, and she didn’t look like she was a part of team Rocket, so who…

The woman looked up at him through silver bangs of hair that partially covered her dark blue eyes.

“Can I help you? If you’re just going to be creepy, I’ll break your nose. Filth.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to try that. I wasn't being a creep, you just looked familiar, and I was trying to think if I’ve seen you before.” Mark waved her off, not wanting to get thrown out, and lose his chance at cash because some random lady tempted him into throwing a punch. “I’m not here to start a fight, I just want to pawn off some Pokemon I caught.”

That seemed to catch her attention. She put away her phone and turned her full attention to him with a calculating glint in her eye.

“You’re a Pokemon hunter?” Her tone had changed from dismissive disgust to something cold, professional, almost predatory.

“Eh.” Mark shrugged. “I’m looking for cash, and thought this would be a good option. It’s been a complete headache though, so I’m not sure if it’s worth the hassle to keep at it. That’s up to how much mister fedora is willing to put down for some Teddiursa.”

“You’re a rookie? And you went with Teddiura cubs for your first sell? No one just wakes up and decides to become a hunter on a whim.”

“What can I say? I’m not everybody else.”

She looked him up and down, visibly unimpressed. “Clearly.”

“Hey!”

“What’s your name? The number of successful hunters in Sinnoh is larger than most regions, but still small. I like to keep a headcount of everyone I might bump shoulders with.”

“The name’s Marcus Cross, future legend.”

The silver haired woman reached out and shook his hand with a strong grip. She was going to say a snide comment about his ambitions, but something in his eyes held her back.

“Using your full name is risky in this business. Just call me Hunter J.”

“J. Hunter J.” Mark tasted the word on his tongue, trying to dredge up where he’d heard it before, but despite the dejavu that the name brought, nothing came to mind.

The door to the office opened and “Max Mustermann” stepped out.

“Ah, Marcus, I was hoping to see you.” Max gave Mark a nod before turning his attention to the only female in the room. “Ms J.” He said curtly as he handed her a stack of papers.

J flipped through them, before putting them in her coat and standing up.

“I have to be going now.” She said to Mark. “I was just here to scope out a possible client. What you’re stumbling into is a dangerous job, you have to tread carefully in this business.”

“I outsmarted an Ursaring with a Bidoof and some duct tape. I think I’ll be fine.”

“I wasn’t talking about the Pokemon.” J’s professional tone vanished, replaced by the sharp edge of a threat. "Watch whose toes you’re stepping on. Every contract you close is one less for me."

J sauntered out of the room, only pausing at the door to send one last glare over her shoulder.

“Try not to choke on your ambition. New hunters have a tendency to go missing in the wilds.” 

“Why don’t you go choke on a dick?” Mark flipped her off as she left, a gesture which J happily returned.

“Man, why are all the hot chicks always total bitches?”

-Chapter End-

Ship whoever you want, but uh, this ain’t a harem story, and ‘romance’ is not checked on the story tags. There’s going to be some side stuff here and there, but I’m keeping my eyes on the prize- AKA sick action scenes and epic plot moments. This is Mark’s story, and he thinks of himself as a “tough guy” who plays Doom, not Otome games.

Chapter Text

Short chap is shomrt

-The Dragon King-

-Redline: Ch 3-

The Rocket officer’s office was a quiet thing. There was a nice table, with a laptop on it and plush chairs on either side, and that was about it. The floor was fake wood tiles, but that didn’t really count as interesting. The walls were barren, empty.

Whatever decorations had been hung there by the previous occupant had been removed, and Mustermann hadn’t bothered to replace them.

His coat and hat were hung on the back of his chair, leaving him in a charcoal button up shirt, with a flared collar atop it.

“Do you mind if I ask what exactly your job is?” Mark asked as he took a seat.

“Of course not, but I’m afraid there isn’t horribly much to tell.”

Max Mustermann leaned back in his lavish desk chair, and took a sip of his coffee. Mark was still convinced that name had to be some kind of fake ID thing, considering it meant “placeholder name” to the Germans of his old world.

“Some of my peers act like we’re hot shots, but truthfully I’m just a salesman. I meet with customers and either buy products my organization needs, or that we can use to turn a profit, or I sell the customers something that they’re struggling to get ahold of through more official channels.” Max shrugged. “That’s all. It just so happens that I get a good cut of all the deals that come through my trade network.”

“I didn’t think you guys had set up shop in Sinnoh.”

“We’re working on it. My company wants to break into a foreign market, and after the man they sent before me failed to get a foothold, I was the one they sent to replace him.” Max sipped his coffee. “They know I have a penchant for trying to secure long term clients rather than pressing for short term profits. We just didn’t expect there to be so much pushback by the local competition.”

“Is Galactic really competition for you guys? They don’t seem like much.”

“Don’t let a scant few encounters with their lower grunts deceive you, their ranks might be filled with more scientists than fighters, but they have high end Ace trainers in their upper ranks. Galactic’s strength lies in the enormous resources they can bring to bear on any problem they deem worth their time.” The Rocketeer’s smile became half a degree more forced. “Catching the attention of the upper management tends to be a mistake of a more permanent kind. My predecessor learned that the hard way.”

Mark frowned. That sounded more intense than the Galactic in the games… actually, wait, didn’t they nuke one of the lakes to force out the lake trio? And they somehow did it while keeping the police and authorities off the site. Hmm. Maybe he had been writing off the Space Stupids a bit too easily.

“But enough about me and my friends. You’re here to do business, let’s see the product.”

The Pokeballs were handed over, and Max put them in a small device that was plugged into his laptop. It looked like a metal coaster, with an indent for the sphere to rest. When the Pokeball was placed on it, the device was forcibly expanded- (the implications of which were lost on Mark, since he only had six monsters on him at the moment).

The device took the capture spheres one by one, and fed their information onto the computer.

“Three Teddiursa. Healthy. Underdeveloped. Low TE readings, but that’s because they’re quite young. Teddiursa get harder and harder to tame as they get older, and it becomes basically impossible once they finally evolve, so if they’re wild they’re actually more valuable young and malleable than older and battle capable.” Max tapped a finger on his desk in thought, before clicking some keys on his laptop. “I’ll give you one thousand per. That’s three thousand in total, which is more than you made from your Gym win- and you had that doubled from your bet with Roark.”

“Two thousand per.” Mark immediately countered, causing Max to raise an eyebrow.

“There’s no one else willing to buy from you. You don’t have any leverage to negotiate with.”

“You don’t have anyone else to buy from in Sinnoh, and if you throw your nets too far, you’ll only pull Galactic’s attention. Two thousand per.”

“...the previous person to sit in this chair would have you thrown out of this building with a black eye and an empty wallet.”

“Sure, but he’s dead. You’re not.”

“Max Mustermann” stared at Mark for a few seconds in silence, reappraising the man in front of him. Whatever he found, he approved of with a smirk.

“You’re new to business, an unproven client with no history for paying your end of deals. If I were back in Kanto, it would be my job to press you for as hard of a price as I can get. But we’re not in Kanto, I need long term customers in Sinnoh, and you strike me as an ambitious fellow. I’ll give you one thousand five hundred for each, four thousand five hundred in total. Truthfully they’re worth a little less, but think of the extra as an investment to make sure you come back with more product.”

“Finally, someone on this planet that knows how shit’s supposed to work.” Mark grinned and clasped Max’s hand in a strong handshake. “Deal! I look forward to working with you in the future.”

-Dragon King-

Getting paid in physical cash was great. It wasn’t traceable, wasn’t taxed, and there was just something about the weight of hard money in your hands that made it feel worth more than the same number on a bank statement.

But as great as cash was, he wasn’t narcissistic(?) enough to get off on hoarding it like Smaug and never spending it on anything. There were plenty of things he would prefer in his hands than a lump of cash.

Mark grinned like a felon as he turned the revolver over in his hand. It was simple, just a plane hunk of metal with a wooden handle. Honestly it was ugly compared to the guns of his old world, but Earth had refined gunpowder weaponry to an art and then mass produced it on an industrial scale across the entire planet. This was something that ranchers might have on hand, as a backup, in case a Mighyena or other predator gets onto the farm while their Growlith was sick.

It was his first purchase from Rocket.

12 bullets were his second purchase.

Finally having some actual punch in his hands made any qualms about maybe helping Rocket be more annoying to people across the globe go away.

He was a fighter at heart, a soldier, so just holding an actual weapon again made him feel more whole. It made him feel more sure of himself, more courageous.

…it also wasn’t going to be very effective, was it?

Mark’s pace slowed as he stared down at the gun, his grin sliding downwards.

His mind turned to memories of his fight with Steelix, and how much of a beating that monster had taken. There were also the fights he’d seen on TV, where Ace level Pokémon took blows that would turn a human into paste, without even flinching.

This little pea shooter wouldn’t do shit against a real threat.

Mark tried to picture Steelix rampaging in front of him. The massive snake was covered in thick metal armor that protected insides made of rocky minerals, its attention was focused on Shelgon, throwing out moves that shook the entire arena. 

Then for a moment it paused for a breath.

Mark leveled the gun, aiming for the tiny gap in its defenses where a bullet this small could do anything. He aimed for the eye, a red apple on a tree down the road, and pulled the trigger.

BANG

The apple tumbled from the tree as the bullet shattered the branch next to it.

Mark clicked his tongue in annoyance. Mediocre shot, same as ever.

“At least all the worst ones have trainers.” The veteran grumbled as he holstered his revolver on his belt, and let his cape cover it up. “People at least die when you shoot them.”

He knew that much from experience.

-Chapter End-

Chapter Text

-The Dragon King-

-Redline: Ch 4-

How do you tame a dragon? 

It was a question that Dragon Masters and specialists were frequently asked by rookie, and even experienced trainers, who were struggling to deal with unruly party members that didn’t learn to trust the same way other Pokémon did.

It was a difficult question to answer. There were plenty of tips and tricks that could help, and advice to pass on, but it didn’t always work. Everyone seemed to have a different way of doing it, and there wasn’t a clear consensus as to why something that reliably worked when one person did it, failed miserably when someone else tried.

Indigo league champion, and head of the Blackthorn clan, Drake put it bluntly in an interview several years prior.

“Giving advice is mostly pointless. The people who are able to truly earn a dragon’s trust do it instinctively, entirely on their own.”

Shelgon materialized in the middle of a clearing, ticked off, and ready to fight, with the memory of his humiliating loss fresh on his mind.

Instead of an opponent, however, he found himself facing Mark, and surrounded on all sides by five Bidoofs. 

“Let’s get this over with quick. You lost us that battle. We lost to a soyboy fucking pink puffball of a wannabe trainer, who hadn’t ever had a battle before, because you refused to listen to orders.” The vet scowled down at Shelgon with his arms crossed. “This has been going on for a while, but it stops now .”

“SHELL!” 

“Nuh-uh, none of that. Look around. You see these dumbasses around you? They’re super weak, you could take them all on by yourself, but I would have WON that fight using them. Hell, since they bother to listen I could use them to beat you!”

“SELLGON!” The Dragon roared in fury, as his bruised pride was beaten down even further.

BANG

All the Pokémon in the clearing jumped at the sound of the gunshot. Now with attention back on him, Mark holstered his gun, now a bullet short, and a smoking hole in the ground a short distance away.

“I am the trainer, you are the Pokémon. I strategize, you battle. I give the orders, you obey. That is what you agreed to when you joined me.”

From his back, Mark pulled out a metal baseball bat. It was beaten up, dented, and bent slightly from frequent use. It was the exact bat that he had beaten Shelgon with when he caught him.

“If you’ve somehow forgotten that, then please tell me, I’ll be more than happy to refresh your memory.”

Shelgon tensed up, his eyes narrowed, and for a moment it looked like he was going to try his luck, but Mark refused to back down, and met the dragon’s gaze unflinchingly. The Bidoofs chittered to one another in panic, and prepared for a fight.

Against traditional logic, it was Shelgon who blinked first, and broke eye contact in submission.

“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought.” Mark scoffed and spat out the wad of gum to the side, then he squatted down the Shelgon’s eye level. 

“Look, bud, I’m not trying to be an ass about this, but you’re forcing my hand. I’m trying to help you, actually. You want to win, I want to win, we’re both competitive- it’s why we work so well together! I’m not even saying you need to be some robot that only does exactly what I say, I actually want you to think on your feet and lean into all those battling skills you’ve got. But when I give an order, you need to follow through. Do you understand?”

Shelgon didn’t respond.

“Do. You. Understand?”

Shelgon let out a weary warble, and nodded his head.

“Good.” Mark placed his hand on the dragon’s shell and rubbed his friend’s head. “We’re a team, buddy, we’re partners. I can’t help you become the very best if you don’t let me do my part. Let’s soar to the top together, whaddya say?”

Shelgon met his trainer's eye with a burning ambition.

“SHELL!”

-The Dragon King-

The sun was beginning to set when Helena finally met Mark near the local ice cream shop.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” She exclaimed, panting for breath as she rushed over. “It took longer than I anticipated to move the things I won’t be bringing to a room in a storage shed I’m renting.”

Behind her, Haunter lazily floated several travel bags with Psychic as he followed along.

“Well you lost your chance at free ice cream.” Mark snarked as he took another bite of his Double Chocolate Chocolate Chip swirl cone. “You got anything else you need to do before we head out? Once we leave we’re not coming back.”

“No, I don’t believe so.”

“You sure?”

Helena bit her lip in thought, and glanced at the shop behind Mark.

“Well...”

-The Dragon King-

The two travel companions made their way to the edge of town with twin cones in their hands- one a mint green, the other a chocolate brown.

“Eterna city is our next stop. Both because it’s massive and has everything we could possibly need to stockpile on for a trip around the continent, and because Gardenia owes me a badge. You said you did the gym circuit, right? Can you give me any tips for her?”

“Well, there’s not really a lot to say. I’m surprised you didn’t go to her first, actually. She specializes in Grass types, makes use of Sunny Day, and uses status effects to teach challengers to not underestimate them. Is there anything specific you’re asking about?”

“I want to know her fighting style, any tricks she likes to pull, and if she’s likely to throw out a level 70 something Steelix at me.”

Hellena laughed awkwardly in a way that didn’t inspire confidence, and rubbed at her arm. “N-Not exactly?”

“I feel a massive but on its way.”

“You likely won’t be able to beat her, she has one of the lowest knock out rates against challengers, second only to Vulkner, but she gives out the most badges of all the Gym Leaders, you’ll be fine.”

“Wait, no, that doesn’t make any sense. Highest badge rate, but one of the lowest KO rates? How the crap does that work?”

“Because of her Roserade. It’s her starter, and she uses it in almost every battle on her record, even against Type disadvantages. That Roserade is strong enough to give some of the Elite Four’s Pokemon a hard time. But with challengers, she never fights at her fullest, and always holds back. Gardena doesn’t give out badges for beating her, she gives them out to anyone that she’s impressed by, and who she thinks is taking good care of their Pokemon.”

“Ugh, that’s the type of hippie shit I was worried about.” Mark rolled his eyes. “Knowing my luck she’ll think I’m some hack who isn’t a ‘real’ trainer, and immediately hate my guts.”

Helena gave him a shrug. Honestly that wasn’t impossible, considering how Mark tended to act.

“Alright! Plan ‘figure out how to beat the ever loving shit out of an Ace-level Roserade, so that leaf lady can’t deny me a badge’ is a go!”

“I’ll do whatever I can to help?” Helena offered weakly.

“Actually, can we have a battle when we make camp? Having Shelgon get experience fighting enemies that can go intangible would be really good.”

“MAAARK!”

The Dragon-Ghost duo turned and looked behind them to see Casey running down the street, waving frantically, with Dawn on his heels.

“A friend of yours?”

“Kind of.” Mark sighed. “More like an annoying acquaintance that I’m struggling to be nice to. He’s a good kid, but he cannot take a social clue to save his life. I think I’ve done everything short of putting it in writing that I don’t want to see him for a while, and it just goes over his head.”

Casey slid to a stop in front of Mark, concern written on his face.

“Hey, I heard about what happened from Nurse Joy, and… I just want to say that this isn’t the right path!”

…

Mark slowly blinked down at Casey, his brain stuttering for a moment.

“What?”

“You have friends you can rely on, you know. Catching more won’t help, because even if they look the same, they aren’t.”

“What in the actual fuck are you talking about?”

“Your Bidoofs.” Casey exclaimed with the same emotion as if he had lost those Pokemon. “Nurse Joy asked me to check on you. She said you lost your Bidoofs in a Ursaring attack, and have been acting strange ever since, talking about selling Pokemon, and catching even more Bidoof out of grief. I know you want them back, but you can’t replace them, you need to let them go!”

“Okay. Stop.” Mark pinched the bridge of his nose as a headache slowly began forming. Even Helena was looking at Casey strangely. “Forget being on different pages, we’re in different libraries. I have no grief over the Bidoof I lost against the Ursaring, all their expensive Pokeballs came out of it in pristine condition. The Bidoof did their job, and they’re, well, Bidoofs. Why would anyone be upset about losing some? You’re sounding like a flowerpot short of being a vegetable garden.”

“But- But you caught more… Trying to replace them out of grief…”

“Yeah because it worked, and I needed more to do it again. I was being pragmatic, like you need to be about most things as a trainer. I lost some pieces, so I replaced some pieces. It’s not a big deal, don’t get in a tizzy about it, dude.”

“That’s- You can’t-” Casey stared up at Mark like he was looking at a complete stranger. “The most important part of being a trainer is befriending your Pokemon and having fun with them! If you don’t then you’ll never make it to the top! You can’t talk about them like- like chess pieces! You can’t throw them away!”

“I didn’t throw them away, that would have been wasteful. And it’s not like I got them killed on purpose, I just don’t see a reason to get all touchy-feely over a couple dead hamsters. I mean, yeah, it’s sad, whatever, let’s move on.”

“You’re a MONSTER!”

“Oh, grow the fuck up!”

“Hey!” Dawn shouted, and tried to cut in, but was immediately stonewalled by Mark.

“No! This guy needs to hear this!” Mark jabbed Casey in the chest. 

“Fun? You’re enrolled in a bloodsport, dumbass! If you’re having your Pokemon fight to near-death for fun then you’re the one that’s fucked in the head. The reason people become trainers, the reason people tamed Pokemon in the first place, was for power. They wanted to survive. The champion rules the region, and the champion rules because who’s going to tell them no?? That’s why I’M doing this! Not for fun! Not for friendship! For power! Because when I become champion, I’ll never have to lose any thing or any one ever again!”

“And you’re willing to throw away Pokemon to get there!?”

“If that’s what it takes, then yes. In a heartbeat.”

“MONSTER!”

“Man the FUCK up! Death is a part of life! Pretending that it’s not doesn’t make you better than anyone else, it just makes you a narcissistic asshole!” 

Mark roared, spittle flying into Casey’s face, as he pointed out at the distant tree line. 

“Pokemon eat Pokemon all the time out there, the world is a mean place. Humans eat Pokemon, some Pokemon eat Humans! YOU eat Pokemon! Trainers go and chew through hundreds of wild Pokemon to train their teams! Don’t get mad at me for not pretending that they’re somehow magically different and special now that I have them trapped in a metal ball.”

“So, what, is Shelgon also nothing but fodder to you, as well? Your partner!? ”

“No, because he’s different. He’s valuable. He’s strong. He’s hungry, like me, and wants to be so strong that he’ll never be helpless ever again.”

“So he IS different, but only because he’s like you? Mean and horrible?!” Casey spat.

“I should nail you in the jaw for that.”

“Go ahead and try! We’ll fight, and I’ll win, just like last time. Because the world isn’t the terrible place you say it is, and I’m right about what I say.”

“I lost because of bad planning, type disadvantage, and Shelgon not listening. I already have two of the three fixed. You really think your Ralts and Hat-whatever can take a bruiser like Shelgon while he’s backed up by five cannon fodder to support him and take hits?”

“I do, because I believe in my friends!”

“Oh, I’m gonna enjoy putting your face in the ground.”

BOOM

The ground shook, and a plume of smoke billowed up from the edge of the city.

Casey looked up at Mark with an angry glare, and said “This isn’t over.” before rushing off to the explosion.

“Man, this is just my rotten luck.” The military vet scowled as he watched his impromptu rival and the game protagonist run off into what was very obvious danger. “Let’s go try to keep them from dying, and the city from burning down.”

“Yes, them dying would be bad, because you were just starting to get through to him!”

Mark looked at Helena with raised eyebrows. “Were you listening to the right conversation?”

“Uhm, I-I think so?”

“...”

“...”

“Whatever you say.”

-The Dragon King-

Mark made his way to the edge of Oreburgh at a blitz speed, pushing past fleeing civilians, and weaving through the panicked crowds, in a way that you only could manage with previous experience.

He stopped behind a sturdy looking building, and carefully peaked his head out over the corner to see what was going on.

“Ah, shhiiiit.” He cursed. “This is my fault isn’t it?”

“RAAAAAAOOOOOHHHH!” The massive Ursaring let out a roar that shook the city, as it slammed its arm through the wall of a house, and caused half of it to cave in.

A red dog danced about around the bear’s feet, biting her and peppering her with flames, then jetting off before it got attacked.

“Keep her busy, Growlithe! We almost have the block evacuated!” Officer Jenny shouted from her motorcycle,as she drove circles around the Ursaring, blaring her siren as loud as possible to distract the beast.

“RING!”The Hibernator Pokemon raged as her claw came down on the ball of flaming red and yellow fluff, only to miss again.

By sheer and complete chance, as Ursaring slammed into the ground, her head came down in Mark’s direction.

The two locked gazes.

Her nose twitched, and her eyes widened as her pupils narrowed into slits.

…He’d had the Bidoof out that morning, and had been working with them. She could smell them on him.

“Fuck!”

Mark turned and ran, but he was too slow. A massive brown blur came crashing through the wall he had been hiding behind, jumped over him to cut off his escape, and swatted him with the back of a massive clawed paw.

Mark flew backwards into the collapsing building with a pained scream, as his forearm audibly cracked , and the apartment complex came down on top of his head.

-The Dragon King-

…

Mark stirred, his head throbbing as his consciousness slowly crept back to him. 

The air thick with the choking scent of dust and crumbled concrete. Bits of rubble dug into his back, his arms pinned awkwardly beneath a jagged slab of plaster. For a moment, panic surged through him, his breaths came fast and shallow, and the confined space threatened to squeeze the life out of him. But he clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus.

Panicking would only kill him faster.

Slowly, he tested his arms, wincing as pain lanced through his shoulder. He could move, if barely. The collapsed building pressed down on Mark from above, crushing him under its weight, and keeping his chest from being able to expand enough for a full breath of air. The few breaths he did manage to get were accompanied by sharp lances of pain from a broken rib.

A cold certainty gripped his spine, like a skeletal hand of ice. He would die here, if he couldn’t escape soon.

Shifting his weight, Mark began to claw at the debris with trembling fingers. Slowly he began pushing the rocks and metal rods away from him, painfully digging his way out, even as the rubble cut deep into his hands and became slick with blood.

A roar from the Ursaring shook the ground beneath him, and Mark was half convinced that his tiny pocket would collapse on him and kill him instantly.

But it didn’t, and so he continued. Slowly. Painfully. With bleeding hands, and broken bones. This wasn’t the first time he had been buried, and the bullet hole in his side ached, as it left a trail of fresh blood behind him.

Finally he managed to shove a particularly large rock out of the way, and the night sky opened up in front of him. The only way he could tell it was night was by the moon, because he couldn’t see the stars. They were hidden from view, choked out of existence by a thick blanket of smoke that suffocated the entire skyline.

Mark rolled out of the rubble and into the burning husk of a ruined city.

“GRACE!” He screamed, his dry throat threatening to tear itself open. “GRACE! WHERE ARE YOU!?”

Mark forced himself to his bleeding feet, and managed two shakey steps forward, before an enemy missile slammed into a nearby skyscraper, and an explosion of shrapnel knocked him back to the ground.

He cried out in pain, and clutched his neck. His military uniform, already torn up from being buried under rubble, had been cut like wrapping paper, and blood poured out of a jagged cut that ran from his collarbone up over his jawline.

“GRAAACE!”

He called out again, but his voice was barely audible over the constant CRACK of gunfire, and the THUNDER of artillery raining down.

“GRACE!”

His head swiveled, desperately looking over the area until, at last, he finally found her.

Or rather, what was left of her.

A bloody tangle of blond hair slumped over the side of a burning Jeep. An arm mangled into bending at three wrong angles. And her face- her face-

“Bleugh!”

Mark rolled over and vomited his stomach contents onto the ground.

The walls seemed to close in around him, as if the rubble of the building had come alive and pulled him back into its clutches.

His breaths came fast and shallow, each one a desperate gulp for air that never seemed to reach his bruised lungs.

"No. No, no, no, no no nononoono" He muttered, the words tumbling out in time with his frantic breaths that came out in stuttered bursts. His vision blurred at the edges, dark spots creeping into his periphery, as tears stung his eyes. “Grace, no, oh God, you can’t- nonono-”

His hands were clammy, slick with sweat, and when he pressed them to the ground to try to steady himself, the world seemed to tilt. The ground beneath him swayed like a boat on churning waters, and it was only the fact that he was already on the ground that kept him from tumbling over.

“Cross! There you are, boy!” Boots crunched down on the gravel as they walked into view, and an older man in an officer uniform squatted down in front of him. “If you couldn’t tell from the fact that everything’s gone to shit, the fuckin’ Pacific cucks knocked out our SAMs, and now tha Goddamned Texans are bombing the fuck out of all of us. Vegas is lost, the entire city is fucked, and command is finally giving the greenlight to pull out. We’re letting the traitors kill each other fighting over the ruins of this Hellhole.”

“S-Sir, m-my-” Mark looked upo at the officer, tears streaming down his face, blood and bile dripping from his chin. “My sister, Grace, sh-she, please! ”

“...She’s gone, son. I’m sorry. So is most of the company.”

“No. NO! You’re lying! NoNOonoNONonon!”

SMACK

Mark’s head snapped to the side and pain exploded in his vision as the officer smacked him across the face with his pistol.

“Man the FUCK up! This is war, son! Death is a part of life! Pretending that it’s not doesn’t make you better than anyone else, it just makes you a narcissistic asshole! You think you’re the only one here who’s lost people!? She knew the risks when she took the oath, and I thought you did too.”

The officer stood up and spat on the ground.

“I thought you wanted to transfer over and try to be a SEAL in the future, or was I talking to some other snot nosed brat?”

“I do, sir.” Mark grabbed onto that thought, and wrapped it around himself like a lifeline.

“Then start acting like it. I’ve never met a Navy SEAL that cried on a mission. SEALs get shit done! Where’s your gun?”

“I-I lost it.”

“Then grab your side arm, wipe off those embarrassing tears, get to your feet, and fight! Because if you don’t, son, you’re gonna wind up as dead as everyone else! Do you understand me, sergeant!?”

“SIR, YES SIR!”

Mark shouted as he forced himself past the burning agony in his stomach and legs, to stand up. He wobbled, and had to catch himself on a wall, but he stayed standing.

As he stumbled forward, he had a cape draped over his shoulders, instead of a military uniform, and the gun he had in his hand shifted into a shoddy revolver. But the thought he held in a vice grip was the same one that had carried him out of the burning ruins of New Vegas that day.

“Man up. Real men don’t cry. Real men get things done.”

Mark forced himself forward, pulling himself back to the here and now, even as the constant sounds of gunfire and artillery echoed like dead ghosts in the back of his mind.

“Man up. Real men don’t cry. Real men get. things. done. ”

As his body finally recognized that his wounds, while bad, were nothing as severe as they had been the last time he had been buried alive, Mark rushed forward in a dead sprint, jumping up the remains of collapsed buildings.

“Piplup, Ice Beam!”

“Growlithe, Fire Fang!”

“Cranidos, Zen Headbutt!”

“Ralts, Psybeam!”

“Haunter, Venoshock!”

As he crested the hill of rubble, Mark was met with the sight of the strongest trainers in the city laying into the massive Ursaring with all they had.

It was very clearly not enough.

Ursaring roared in fury as the attacks slammed into her, but didn’t slow down for even a second. She flexed her arm, shattering the ice that had grown on it, and swung her claw down with a merciless Swipe that cut deep into Cranidos, and sent him crashing through a nearby wall.

“CRANIDOS, NO!”

“Piplup, quick! Cover Roark!”

BOOM BOOM BOOM

Mark’s breaths came out in perfect sync of the memory of thundering death that haunted his every waking moment. He stared down at the scene with a stone faced expression that betrayed no emotion other than anger.

Gun in his hand, knife on his belt, six Pokeballs- five of which expendable cannon fodder.

“Real men get things done.”

-Chapter End-

Chapter Text

-The Dragon King-

-Redline: Ch 5-

Oreburgh was under attack. Terrible crashes could be heard all through the city- a sound that was only matched by the thunderous roars of a mother wronged that shook the ground.

The Pokecenter and Gym followed the procedures for a wild Pokemon attack perfectly, opening their door to all trainers, and allowing them to take shelter from the storm.

The Pokemart on the other hand was not a government facility, despite being deep in bed with the League, and didn’t open its door for the public. Quite the contrary, actually, the doors slammed shut, locked, and were barred the moment the alarm was sounded.

Anyone who wanted to get inside would have to use gratuitous force to do so.

A gunshot blasted the lock apart, and let the back maintenance door be kicked open with a crash.

Mark barged in and immediately beelined to the service desk.

“I need Pokeballs.” He slammed his good arm on the desk. “Give me as many as you’ve got, it’s a matter of city-wide security.”

“Wh-What?” The poor clerk stared at him with wide confused eyes.

“Out of the way!” Mark pushed her to the side and vaulted over the countertop. “Let’s see here… Bingo!”

Mark grabbed the metal cabinet with the picture of an ultra ball on it and yanked on it, but it didn’t even budge.

“Is this a robbery?” The employee asked, aghast- she was the same one he, err, had a very professional and business-like meeting with out back.

“No, but it’s going to be if you don’t help me get this stupid thing open!” Mark threatened as he thrashed the handle with his good arm, causing the entire shelf to shake. “I’m going to hurl every single ball in this building at that stupid bear, until I catch it. Every second it’s stuck trying to break free, is a second it’s not tearing down buildings.”

“Oh! Uhm, I only have the keys for Pokeballs under 600 P. We’d need the manager to unlock the Ultraballs and Luxuryballs, and she left when the attack started!”

“Oh, fuck this shit!”

Mark scowled as he pulled the revolver from his belt and took aim at the metal lock.

BANG

The customers who’d been in the building when everything started, and were taking refuge in the shop, screamed as the bullet ricocheted into the ceiling and caused plaster and wood flakes to rain down.

“Please stop! That's not going to work! Those cabinets were made to withstand Pokemon attacks!”

“DAMNIT!” Mark cursed and kicked the (now dented where he had shot) stupid cabinet. “Fine, whatever, I don’t have time for this! Unlock the basic Pokeballs, I’ll just force the RNG for their shitty capture chance through sheer quantity.”

“How many do you need?”

“How many do you have?”

-The Dragon King-

Several of the Gym trainers had joined into the fight and were trying to help, but they weren’t doing much more than slowing the Ursaring down- as proven by the massive Onix that caught a Stone Edge with its face before toppling over backwards and crashing into a bunch of mining equipment, completely unconscious. 

Roark could only watch the fight with ever growing anger. Anger at the situation. Anger at his city being torn apart. Anger at this near-Ace level Ursaring. And above it all, anger at himself.

This was the exact reason that he had been given Steelix in the first place.

Steelix, who was out of commission in the Pokemon center because of him .

“Damn it all!” Roark cursed as he scooped Cranidos’ head into his lap and returned his injured Pokemon.

“Piplup, Water Gun!”

“Ralts, use Disarming Voice to cover her.”

“This is Officer Jenny of Oreburgh, broadcasting on all channels! We have a wild Pokemon attack on our hands! We’re dealing with a rogue Ursaring! We need backup!”

They were slowly whittling it down, but the Ursaring only seemed to be getting angrier and more aggressive as time went on.

“This isn’t how it’s supposed to go!” Roark shouted as he stood back up and pulled off the last Pokeball from his best. But before he could send out Geodude, Ursaring roared back and a harsh light began gathering in her mouth.

“HYPER BEAM! GET DOWN!” Jenny cried out, and tackled Casey and Dawn to the ground.

The hairs on Roark’s neck stood on end, and his ears popped as a massive lance of energy ripped through the air where his head had been moments ago. The beam exploded as it crashed into the building behind them, blasting a massive chunk out of it, before sweeping left and washing over everything like a blinding wave of death.

In just a few seconds, what was a picturesque evening just a few hours ago, had turned into something out of a nightmare.

Buildings were in ruins and crumbling under their own weight into massive piles of rubble and glowing hot rebar. The treeline for the surrounding forest had been cut down and pushed back by several cars worth, with small fires rapidly spreading around the blast zone. And a ploom of smoke billowed into the sky, choking the stars that had started to emerge, while debris rained down around them. 

Officer Jenny had evacuated everyone, no one was in those buildings. The police had been escorting all the civilians to the Pokecenter, no one was in those buildings. They weren’t fully collapsed so any survivors cou- no one was in those buildings.

But no matter how many times Roark told himself that, it did nothing to help the acidic revulsion that twisted in his gut and threatened to make him puke.

“C-CODE RED!” Jenny shouted into her radio, choking on her words. “ACE LEVEL POKEMON! WE ARE UNDER ATTACK BY AN ACE LEVEL POKEMON! SEND IMMEDIATE HELP!”

“Arceus help us.” Dawn whispered in horror.

With all who dared oppose her cowering or running away, Ursaring reared back and roared loud enough to shake the earth.

“Hey, fuckface Fazbear wannabe!”

All eyes turned to look as a particularly stupid dumbass climbed on top of one of the newly made rubble hills and dropped a metal drawer on the ground.

“Catch!”

Mark reared back and hurled a Pokeball like a fastball. It curved ever so slightly as it zipped through the air and smacked the bear in the back of the head.

The metal THUNK of the impact was quickly followed by a second thunk as it fell and bounced off the ground.

Slowly, the massive Ursaring turned around to face Mark with a furious expression- very much not in the stupid ball.

“SOMEONE OWNS YOU!?”

“An improper release!?” Jenny exclaimed in shock. “On a creature this powerful, that’s not just a crime, that’s a full blown felony!”

“Or she killed her trainer.” Helena whispered chillingly.

Uraring roared and charged Marcus on all fours, ignoring everyone else and barreling over everything in her way.

Mark cursed and kicked his stolen metal drawer over, spilling a fortune of Pokeballs down the hill of rubble, and buying himself valuable seconds as the bear crushed and slipped on them like marbles.

BANG

A bullet landed perfectly between the mother’s eyes, punching through her thick skin and digging into bone, but was unable to break through her thick skull. Perhaps a higher caliber would have been a killing shot, but even at point blank the (relatively) primitive revolver was just too weak.

BANG BANG

Mark pulled the trigger twice more as he jumped backwards and skidded down the rubble.

His broken arm fumbled at his belt, frantically pressing buttons of the Pokeballs he hadn’t used like a prop from a shitty spy movie, forgoing the whole “one fighter at a time” thing in favor of common sense.

Four oversized brown hamsters appeared at the base of the crumbled building in a flash of light.

“Bidoof army, surround the bear and spam status effect moves! Leer, Growl, I don’t know what you all specifically can use and I don’t fucking care as long as it works!”

Of the four rodents, Bidoof1 immediately turned and booked it in the other direction, while the others just looked up at him with stupid faces as he sprinted past them.

“RAOOOH!”

The Bidoof were forcibly broken out of their stupor as the Ursaring came flying down the hill, snapping one of them in half with a Crunch, sending another flying from a glancing impact, and continuing after Mark with laser focused attention.

The fifth and final Bidoof materialized in Mark’s arms, gripped firmly by the scruff of its neck. 

“Use Headbutt!” Mark shouted as he swung and sent the Bidoof through the air, like a sack of potatoes.

“BWIIIEE!”

To Bidoof6’s credit, it did manage to activate Headbutt before he crashed into the massive bear’s forehead, but there wasn’t much a 30 pound rat could do to a hulking 400 something lb mamma running on overdrived maternal instinct and rage so resolute that the 1971 American federal reserve might have been tempted to peg the Dollar to it when they abandoned the gold standard.

Ursaring hit Bidoof6, and sent him splattering on a nearby wall. With the annoyance gone, she turned her attention back to Mark, only to find him missing.

She growled in frustration and rose back up to her full height on two legs, sniffing the air.

Idly, she could feel repeated Growls and Leers wash over her back, but she ignored them. This criminal had taken her cubs, and she would make him pay with every last drop of his blood.

BANG

Ursaring roared as a bullet punched into her chest, and she whirled towards Marcus, who was leaning out from behind a corner.

Energy began gathering in her mouth for a Hyper Beam that wouldn’t care about how fast he ran or what cover he hid behind, but was interrupted when a living wrecking ball slammed into the back of her knee with a Take Down that made her stumble and fall backwards.

“Nice! Now Dragon Breath! Smoke her!”

Boiling hot dragon fire washed over brown fur, but it was swatted away with a massive clawed hand, and Shelgon had to jump to the side to avoid getting Bidoof-ed.

Shelgon dodged the claws as best he could before taking an opening and blitzing in with a Take Down to try to sweep Ursaring’s legs out again. Unfortunately he didn’t account for the fact he was running towards the other side of the legs he had hit previously.

Ursaring kicked Shelgon like a soccer ball, and bounced him off a nearby lamp pole with enough force to bend it.

Shelgon groaned, struggling to rise as sparks of electricity danced around the bent pole from frayed wires. Its armored shell had absorbed most of the blow, but it was clearly shaken. Marcus cursed under his breath and snapped his fingers.

“Shelgon, you’re not done! Focus, and hit her again!”

The spherical dragon (spheragon?) growled, steadying itself on stubby legs. Its mouth glowed hot with blue energy, but instead of immediately letting it go, Shelgon held it back, trying to build up its power. The Dragon Energy grew and grew until it was a sparkling, swirling, orb of blue and violet energy that looked like it might explode if someone sneezed on it.

Ursaring roared, her chest heaving as her fury fueled a second attempt at gathering a Hyper Beam. The air around her mouth shimmered with deadly energy as her own attack charged.

“Don’t let her finish! NOW!”

Shelgon launched his very shoddy and very unstable imitation of Dragon Pulse like a cannon, the sparking blue blob screaming angrily as it streaked toward Ursaring’s chest. The bear-like Pokémon staggered back a step as the impact drove into her. Her glowing maw snapped shut, and there was a muffled CRACK as the light went out, and smoke seeped out of her nose.

She fixed Marcus with a murderous glare, blood dripping from between her teeth as her lips peeled back in a snarl.

“That is fucking terrifying. Keep her on the defensive, I don’t want that maw anywhere near us! She can’t retaliate if she’s overwhelmed!” 

But Ursaring had other plans. With a ground-shaking roar, she slammed both fists into the earth. A violent tremor ripped through the street as cracks spider-webbed outward, catching Shelgon mid-charge and toppling it onto its side.

“Earthquake?! Oh, come on!” Marcus shouted, stumbling to keep his balance.

The street buckled, sending cars sliding into each other and upending chunks of asphalt. Shelgon floundered in the chaos, his heavy shell helping very little with the disorienting effects of the shaking ground.

With Shelgon off balance, Ursaring lunged, claws and teeth glowing, only to howl in rage as her prey disintegrated into red light right beneath her claws.

“Tactical retreat!” Mark shouted to all the Bidoofs still in earshot, as he sprinted off with Shelgon’s pokeball clenched tightly in his hand- fumbling to secure it to his belt.

“RAOOOOOH!”

A rapidly growing shadow over him was all the warning Mark had to throw himself to the side as a car crashed down where he had been, and tumbled down the road in a mangled wreck.

The veteran rolled as he hit the ground, trying to keep his momentum, but not succeeding very well.

Mark slammed his left fist into the ground, and used it to push himself up. He grunted at the lance of pain that shot out from his broken forearm, accepting the pain and almost relishing the way it grounded him in the moment.

The ground shook with heavy steps, and he was given a few seconds to panic between reaching for his gun or Shelgon’s pokeball, before Ursaring exploded out of the wall of the building she had charged through to get to him.

Adrenaline running high, brain cells running low, and indecision leaving him with nothing in his hand, while staring down certain death Mark panicked and did something stupid. 

He let out a war cry, reared back, and punched the motherfucker right in her stupid fucking snout.

It bought him one second, one singular second of complete bewilderment from the terrifying monster, before he was torn into bloody ribbons of meat, but that was all that he needed for his backup plan to bail him out.

Two clawed purple hands grabbed him by the shoulders and swept him out from underneath the mountain of gnashing teeth.

“HAU HA A aHAUh a AUA HA H H A Uu A!” Haunter laughed, because of course it did, at the look of unbridled fury on Usraring’s face as he snatched her kill literally right from under her nose. It cackled like a madman, sounding like nails on a chalkboard as it flew down the street and dropped Mark in an undignified heap.

“Do you see that?” Mark coughed. “That is exactly why I decided to let you travel with me.”

“Super sorry for not getting here sooner, but I’m glad I could help!” Helena tried to smile as best she could given the situation, and offered her hand. To put it bluntly, she looked like shit. Dust was all over her face, her eyeliner and dark purple lipstick were smeared, her dress was torn in several spots, and her hair… Well, actually her hair didn’t look much worse than it usually did.

Mark grabbed the offered hand and pulled himself up, making Helena tip forward and almost causing her to fall onto him.

“RAOOOH!”

Ursaring lunged forward into a charge, but was caught off balance as a beam of Ice TE struck her legs, and covered them with a layer of ice.

“Don’t worry, we’re here!” Dawn shouted as she ran over, Piplup balancing on her shoulder.

“What do you mean we , it’s just you!” Mark exclaimed. “We need more backup! There were more of you, where did they go? Where’s the Fairy dumbass? Where is literally anyone else?! There is one bear, and we have an entire city of people!”

“The Gym trainers have all been knocked out, and this is far too dangerous for normal trainers to help with, they would just be getting themselves killed.” Dawn explained, her eyes never leaving the Ursaring. “Casey and Officer Jenny are checking the collapsed buildings to make sure no stragglers got trapped. Roark is trying to reach as many people as he can, using his position as Gym Leader to skip through the game of telephone, and cut to the top of the League's emergency response force. Several Ace trainers are on their way here from Eterna city, they’ll be here soon.” A bead of sweat slowly ran down Dawn’s brow, her knuckles turning white from how tightly she was gripping Piplup’s Pokeball.

“How soon is soon ? Soon now is a lot sooner than soon after we’re dead .” Mark hissed.

“Soon.” Dawn reaffirmed, more for herself than Mark.

The ice shattered as Ursaring finally broke free and began stalking towards the trio like a predator on the hunt.

Marcus scowled and rapidly looked around for something to get himself out of this mess- his eyes eventually settling on a ruined factory building. It had been blasted open by Ursaring’s Hyper Beam, and was teetering on the edge of collapse, but hadn’t toppled yet.

How fucking pathetic was this. An adult hiding behind a teenager because he couldn’t deal with the consequences of his own actions coming back to bite him.

“Helena, keep the kid alive, I’m solving our problem!”

“Mark, wait!”

Both the girls screamed at him as he pulled Dawn back and took off in a dead sprint.

Ursaring rushed to meet him, with claws glowing white-

BANG

The sixth and last shot in his crummy revolver dug into the bear’s jaw, causing her to close her eyes and finch, which let Mark duck under the flailing paws and speed past.

Ursaring naturally turned and gave chase, ignoring the girls even as Water Gun and Venoshock hit her in the back. Her fight was with Mark above everyone else, after all, and the two beelined for the edge of town.

The cracked asphalt groaned beneath his boots as Mark thundered through the city, every muscle in his battered body burning as he pushed himself to his limits. Behind him, the guttural growl of the mamma bear reverberated like rolling thunder, its massive paws crunching debris with terrifying force.

He glanced over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the mountain of muscle and bloodied fur that was advancing on him like a bus filled to the brim with cinderblocks. Her bloodshot eyes locked onto him, and only him. 

Mark's chest heaved as he darted into a narrow alley, his sharp mind already calculating his next move. The beast was faster, stronger, fighting it directly was a no-go, it would just be a repeat of earlier, and that had almost gotten him killed. But speed and strength could be a liability in the right environment.

"Come on, big guy." He muttered, skidding to a stop where he could get a good view of the crumbling factory. His eyes scanned the structure, looking over the fractured columns, and cracking walls. The whole thing was a jenga tower just waiting for someone to hit it with a hammer and tip it over. 

Luckily he had a whole bulldozer.

The bear barreled into the alley, too large for the tight space but forcing its way through regardless. Concrete shattered as its claws raked the walls, sending chunks of brick raining down. Mark backed into the open street, drawing its attention further as he taunted it with a sharp whistle.

"That all you got?" He shouted, his voice hoarse but defiant.

The beast roared, surging forward like a freight train. Mark turned and sprinted toward the factory, weaving through the rubble with practiced precision. He could feel the tremors of the bear's pursuit shaking the ground beneath him.

Just as he reached the shadow of the building, he veered sharply to the left, narrowly avoiding a swipe from a set of claws that shattered the ground. The creature, blinded by rage and momentum, crashed into one of the remaining support columns with the force of a battering ram.

The column groaned under the impact, fractures spider webbing along its surface. Mark didn’t slow down. He darted through the broken remains of an interior wall and emerged on the far side of the building. From here, he had a clear view of the collapsing structure.

Ursaring looked at the pillar she had crashed into with far more intelligence than any animal on Earth would have had, and Mark was reminded that he was dealing with a Pokemon- these things could be smart at times. Smart enough, for example, to figure out his very obvious plan.

“Hey, Freddy fuckface! Man, you're slow!” Mark hollered, pulling her attention back to him. “I was expecting more from you. And if your cubs inherited your stats, I’m starting to think I might have overcharged the customers when I sold them off.”

Ursaring saw red.

Another column shattered into pieces as she barreled through it in a blind rage to get to Mark, followed by the groan of stressed steel beams. The entire building began to lean, bricks tumbling like dominoes in slow motion.

Mark didn’t stop to watch. He jumped out of a window and threw himself behind a half-toppled bus, just as the deafening crash of the building’s collapse shook the air. The roar of the bear was swallowed by the crash, and muffled into silence.

Coughing, Mark rose from his cover, his hand instinctively checking the sidearm holstered at his hip, even if it didn’t actually have any ammo. He squinted through the settling dust, his heart pounding as he scanned the rubble.

…

Nothing.

No sound, no movement, no nothing.

He let out a sigh of relief, and his shoulders relaxed.

“Marcus!”

Adrenaline flooded his system, and it was only because Dawn was a short teenager that his fist only knocked her beanie off her head instead of nailing her in the jaw.

“Watch it!”

“Don’t fucking sneak up on people like that!” Mark snapped, his chest heaving. “I almost took your head off.”

If he’d been holding his gun…

“Oh really? I hadn’t noticed.” Dawn sassed as she rolled her eyes and swiped her hat off the ground. “You should count your lucky stars, my head is worth at least twice the cost of the building you knocked over.”

“The Ursaring knocked it over, I was just running away. It was the one to hit the building with a Hyper Beam and then run into the support columns. I’m completely innocent.”

“Over here! They’re alive!” Officer Jenny waved at the two as she approached from down the street. Behind her were Casey, Roark, and a dozen or so police men, along with a ragged Helena who looked exhausted just trying to keep up with the group’s jog.

Dawn waved at the group, before cupping her mouth and shouting, “We got the Ursaring!”

“We?” Mark looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Who is this we ? I think you mean I got the Ursaring.”

“ You almost got yourself turned into bear chow because you tried to punch a rampaging wild Pokemon.”

“No, I succeeded in punching a rampaging wild Pokemon.”

“That’s even worse!”

“I dropped a building on it.”

“I thought the Ursaring dropped the building on itself? Weren’t you ‘ completely innocent’ ?”

“Here, watch, we’ll get a professional opinion.”

Shelgon appeared in a burst of light, and Mark kneeled down in front of him.

“Who do you think deserves credit for beating the Ursaring? Her, or me?”

Shelgon looked between the two of them, thinking carefully before his eyes quirked smugly and he gestured to himself.

““Not an option!”” Both of the trainers said at the same time.

It was dumb banter over stupid and pointless things- good banter! Mark effortlessly fell back into mindless smack talk between the troops that helped them calm down and not have to think about the fight they’d just been in.

Dawn probably didn’t know the intellectual reason behind it, but with how easily she leaned into it, she clearly understood it subconsciously… or she just had a sass and attitude problem, that was also completely possible.

It was a nice distraction, until Helena silently grabbed the two, and slowly pulled them away from the factory rubble.

“Wha-”

“Shh!”

A low, guttural rumble rolled through the air. They all froze, their eyes snapping toward the pile of debris. It was subtle at first, just a faint tremor, like the earth itself was uneasy.

And then the rubble shifted.

Massive slabs of concrete, each weighing thousands of pounds, groaned as they were pushed aside. Twisted steel beams shrieked as they bent and gave way, snapping like brittle twigs. The pile of destruction heaved upward, and with a deafening crack, a boulder-sized chunk of debris was hurled aside.

From beneath the ruin, the Ursaring emerged.

Heaven hath no wrath like a mother scorned.

Her fur was matted with dust and streaked with blood, but the Pokemon seemed unfazed. The sheer force it displayed was almost surreal- her shoulders bulged with muscle as she lifted what had to be the weight of an entire building. Each motion sent more debris tumbling, the ground quaking beneath her efforts.

A fractured steel girder lay across her back, bending under her immense strength before snapping like a toy. The bear stood, shaking the rubble from her massive frame. Dust cascaded off her body in clouds, and her glowing red eyes locked onto the group, onto Mark , with primal, unrelenting fury.

The police immediately formed a defensive line, Jenny at the front, Pokeballs at the ready.

But before the Ursaring could take step forward, there was a whistle. A very faint, very subtle whistle.

Then in a span of half a second, that whistle turned into a shrill shriek as a barrage of golden stars screamed down from the sky and exploded as they slammed into the wild Pokemon.

A massive metal thing with an enormous wingspan blasted overhead, and for a moment Mark was convinced that the US air force had somehow come to save his ass for the hundredth time.

But while it was big enough to be a small jet, and sure as Hell metallic enough to be one, it wasn’t the airforce. In fact, it even wasn’t a plane at all, it was a bird.

“SKAR!”

Granted, it was a really big bird, but it was still just a bird.

Skarmory, the armored bird-shark-raptor-bullshit-thing that was now the most badass thing Mark had ever seen, banked hard to come around for another pass, and Mark was able to vaguely see the outlines of two people riding on its back.

“RAOOO-ACK!”

The Ursaring’s roar was cut off by another barrage of Swift stars that hammered her into the ground.

The Skarmory dive bombed, screaming like a Stuka as it cut through the air, before cutting up at the very last second, its massive metal talons cutting into the asphalt like butter and carving long gashes in the road as the steel bird slowly ground itself to a halt.

“Oh no. Nonono” Roark stumbled back, shaking his head in denial. “I am so dead.”

A pair of rugged leather boots made a heavy crunch as they landed on the rubble, and out from behind Skarmory’s wingspan stepped the last person Roark wanted to see.

The Gym leader of Canalave city, a man capable of giving some of the Elite Four a run for their money, Byron Stone. Roark’s father.

“Roark.” The mountaineer crossed his arms, which happened to be built like bricks, and looked down at his son in disappointment. “We need to talk. Alone.”

Byron’s appearance deserved much more fanfare than it got, but everyone more or less forgot he existed the moment the other person stepped off the bird.

“Hello.” Cynthia waved at them casually, like she wasn’t the Champion of the entire region just randomly popping in out of nowhere. “I happened to be in Eterna city, talking to Byron, when the call for help went out. Is everyone alright?”

No one responded, presumably too busy choking on air as they tried to remember how to breathe.

“C-Cynthia! You’re Cynthia!” Dawn blurted out dumbly.

“Yes, and you’re Dawn, right? I’ve heard lots of things about you from Professor Rowan.”

“A-All good things, I hope!”

“It’s been nothing but glowing praise. Honestly, I feel like I’m cheating by meeting you before you challenge me in the Champion room.” Cynthia smiled cheekily, either entirely oblivious (or entirely too aware) to how just a few words turned the usually prideful Dawn into a stammering, embarrassed mess.

Oh. 

Oh this was about Dawn .

Mark let out the breath he had been holding.

This was a case of “game protagonist has plot-convenient things happen because game protagonist powers”. The League hadn’t somehow figured out he was from a different reality with nukes, and were here to arrest him. He wasn’t going to get hauled off to PokePrison today.

Cynthia was here for Dawn, probably because Rowan said something, and Byron was here for Roark. They weren’t even pretending to pay attention to anyone else.

“RAOOOH!”

Oh right. The bear.

Cynthia plucked a Pokeball from her belt and popped it open.

A white light spilled out in front of them, the energy congealing together back into a blob of solid matter that grew and grew and grew and grew and just kept growing , until (just when it seemed like Ursaring might be able to fully charge a Hyper Beam before whatever this was could even get out of its ball), the light shattered away to reveal a behemoth.

Cynthia had a Garchomp. Her team shuffled around in every game she popped up in, but she always had a Garchomp, it was kind of her thing.

This… Mark wasn’t even sure if he could call this thing a Garchomp- it definitely wasn’t the Garchomp he two shot with an Ice Beam on his DS!

Cynthia’s Garchomp was over ten feet tall, and covered with thick purple scales so dark that they almost looked black. It was massive , but somehow despite its size, and scales that looked like they could shrug off tank rounds, you couldn’t draw a line more than three inches without running into some knick or scar from an old battle.

Mark and Shelgon could only sit back and stare in terrified awe at the monster in front of them.

This was the Champion’s Ace. This was the Pokemon that had more stat points than most legendaries in the games.

Ursaring’s Hyper Beam, the same attack that had wrecked entire buildings, slammed into the pseudo-legendary with a tide of destruction.

Garchomp caught the attack with two raised fins, and shrugged it off like it was nothing. Then the Dragon looked over its shoulder to Cynthia, asking for permission.

“Go ahead.” The Champion smirked. “Show her what a real Hyper Beam looks like. Just make sure to aim for the forest.”

Garchomp took a breath, and every muscle in Marcus’ body tensed like a spring. 

The ground shook before the sound arrived, a deep, bone-rattling tremor that made the soldier's instincts scream. Mark barely had time to instinctively throw himself to the ground, even though it wasn’t aimed anywhere near his direction.

A split second later: Chaos.

It started as a sudden, overwhelming heat- not enough to burn, but enough to feel like the air itself had caught fire. The soldier clamped his hands over his ears, but it was useless. The roar of the beam drowned out everything, a low, guttural scream that seemed to shake the planet itself. He felt the pressure in his chest, in his skull, the sound vibrating through him as if trying to shake him apart.

Above him, the Hyper Beam tore through the air, a column of light so vivid it burned into his retinas even with his eyes screwed shut. It was impossibly loud, impossibly bright- like staring into the birth of a star. The Champion’s prized Ace unleashed its fury with a force that made every conventional weapon Earth had ever produced seem insignificant in comparison.

For a moment, the world around him ceased to exist. The air thinned, yanked toward the vacuum trailing the beam’s passage. Mark gasped involuntarily, the oxygen feeling almost stripped from his lungs, his ears popping violently. The heat surged again, a second pulse that turned the dust around him into a swirling, choking fog.

Then, the aftershock hit.

A wave of superheated air rolled over him, throwing loose debris in all directions. He felt the impact through his armor, a physical thud that pressed him tighter against the dirt. The Hyper Beam screamed into the distance, leaving a trail of destruction so absolute that even the distant horizon seemed warped, glowing faintly with residual energy.

The soldier cracked open an eye and dared to look up. The beam’s wake was a storm of chaos: trees disintegrated into ash, the ground beneath its path scorched black, and the air rippled so harshly from the heat that it was almost like reality was struggling to keep up. He could see where the laser had carved through the forest and into a distant ridge, the rock glowing molten and sagging like wax under a flame.

The Ursaring was gone. Just… gone.

Cynthia laughed cheerfully as she walked up to the monster disguised as a Pokemon, and scratched it under the chin. “Aww, you wanted to show off for the kids, didn’t you?”

Garchomp let out a low rumble of appreciation and leaned down for more scritches.

-The Dragon King-

Ursaring slowly woke up to a world of pain.

Everything hurt. She couldn’t feel anything, but it all still managed to hurt.

“You’re a tough one, aren’t you? Not many can survive a hit from one of the Champion’s Pokemon.” 

A woman emerged from the treeline, silver hair and a dark coat dancing in and out of Ursaring’s fading vision as it spun and multiplied.

“I should know, I sold the Riolu egg that eventually grew to be the mother of Cynthia’s Lucario. That Pokemon is the purebred culmination of two different championship winning Fighting bloodlines. That is a very dangerous Pokemon- a very valuable Pokemon, and I’ve had it sicced on me before. You’re special to survive something like that.”

Ursaring growled threateningly when the woman took a step too close.

“Shhhh, shhh, shh. Don’t be too loud.” Hunter J hushed and turned so that her left side was in full view of the mother bear, and in the crook of her arm was a small Teddiursa.

“You’ll wake the baby.”

Ursaring leapt- she didn’t know where she managed to pull the strength from, or how her tattered body even managed to physically get itself airborne, but she didn’t care. She had already failed to save three of her cubs, and she would rather die before losing her fourth.

A sapphire comet descended from the sky, crashing down through the forest canopy on the bear with an explosion of debris.

A massive blue dragon tipped its head back and roared in victory, easily pinning the Ursaring down with two legs.

“Good job, Salamence.”

J smiled mirthfully as she took a long step towards the desperately struggling bear- stopping so that all of Ursaring’s bites were just a breath shy of being able to reach her.

“I can’t let a rookie show me up while I’m in town.”

The machine on J’s arm let out a low whine, and Ursaring’s world went black as she was entombed in a stone prison.

-Chapter End-

*Sips Hot Chocolate*

Join the Discord with code YmWYB9uupx

A giant thanks to the generous people who help get these chapters out faster, and get early access to a chapter ahead of what's out for the public, as thanks and to suggest changes.

The members of the Shadow Government, who funnel taxpayer funds directly into my corrupt wallet! Long may they reign!

JackHammer! (The Jeweled Smasher), Helios (The Honored!), MidnightHydro! (The Mighty!), 0RB! (The 0pulant!), Nuckles222 (The Nuclear Threat!), Rom Hack (The Robotic Housekeeper!), Indyk (The Insatiable Imperial!), NickPine (The Nefarious!), Turquoise (The Toxic Terror!), Signal (The Succulent), and Kentucky (The King Jingoist)

The Champions! Leading the fight!

Nvsoulsborne, ShelDrake, Gage Donaldson , Thrawn, Wolfwind01010, Punchlinex7, Teltaios, and Gabryel Scott!

The Dollar Army! Marching with honor and glory!

Phil, Eledu, Blue_port, WiseKitsune, Alex Estrugo, Jaydon Adams, Elenium935, Max Buckner, Spam2Spam, GrimDeathKnight, Hamza Abfallah, thegodfather, SonicDJM, EngineerLife24, Prince of Ruin, SILENGE, DerHochi, Savage Scorpion, Summers Mori, Jerome Francis Lucasan, James C, SDA SPO, Red, The Muffin Rat King, Jesse Brion, HeavenlyReader23, and Sean!

And a special SPECIAL thanks to :

NickPine, MidnightHydro, and Eternal Guard!

Who have chosen to sub to the highest “Humanitarian” tier which I put up after my Bank got hacked and I lost a lot of money. Thay have literally kept me on my feet and let me pay bills.

Thank you all so much, you are my Heroes.

Chapter Text

If you want to keep up-to-date on releases, get access to a crap ton of shitty memes, and several channels worth of Bentai, use discord code Hy7g6UqGQd

Thank you for reading! -Zack, AKA: Z75, AAKA: everyone's favorite asshole

-The Dragon King-

-Redline: Ch 6-

The metal revolver clattered uselessly onto the table. Max Mustermann gave Mark an unimpressed look as his product slid over to him.

“I need something bigger. Better penetration, more kick, a higher caliber.”

“Normally I would question why , but after the fiasco yesterday, I can’t say I blame you.” The Rocket officer lazily pushed the revolver’s grip with a black gloved finger, turning the barrel to face away from himself. 

“Sinnoh hasn’t had an Ace-level Pokemon attack in almost a decade now. The League has gotten good at hunting down any that stray too close to cities, and people here have forgotten that the biggest danger to our modern lifestyle is the same creatures that permit it. Just think; that Ursaring was capable of doing so much damage, but a single Ace trainer could have taken care of it. Cynthia deciding to show off only highlights that. Seeing her work in person was… enlightening.”

“I need something to counter that, I need a nuclear option, I need something . I don’t care how much it costs, or how much ammunition it takes. I’m not going to let myself be helpless, not again. Never again.”

“Nothing can touch the champion’s Garchomp. Breeders have spent years and personal fortunes designing and raising Pokémon for the sole purpose of countering that thing, and all they got for their effort was the bitter taste of humiliating defeat. And they’re at least using Pokemon, no man made weapon could hope to take down an Ace level Pokémon- and you’re talking about something leagues above that.”

Mark’s hands gripped the armrests of the chair until his knuckles were white, yet his face was as unreadable as a stone.

“We’ll see about that.” He grunted, with a stormy look in his eyes.

Mustermann hummed wordlessly, neither refuting nor supporting Mark’s… ambitious ideas.

“While we’re on the topic, I wanted to talk about the interesting implications of my purchase yesterday.”

“Oh fuck off, don’t even try to act like you’re not going to use video of that to massivly spike the price of the Teddiursa to whatever chump you pawn them off to. If anything, you should be paying me for the marketing.”

“Ha! I think you misunderstand, my operation was completely unaffected- if anything this is good for us. The inflow of subsidies to the city to aid in reconstruction of the damaged areas opens up several new opportunities to profit from, if we’re willing to retool slightly. And while the increased eyes on the city are annoying, it’s much more damaging to Galactic, who have a much bigger footprint than us. We have to play safe now, but we can keep expanding business, while they will have to freeze operations here entirely for the foreseeable future. Especially since the Champion herself decided to drop by.”

Mustermann trailed off at that, and Mark couldn’t really blame him. It had been a bad situation, but wild Pokémon attacks were very common, and even the Ursaring was nothing special that a couple of Ace trainers couldn’t handle. Cynthia showing up unannounced would be like the President of America flying overseas and personally getting in the trenches.

That might be an exaggeration, but it just didn’t happen unless something weird was going on behind the scenes.

Well, Teddy tried to pull his old cavalry regiment back together and volunteered to fight in the First World War, but that’s different. President Theodore Rosevelt was just a different kind of man, for fuck’s sake he had a pet bear cub that he saved from a forest fire, and he invited professional boxers to the white house to spar with them. That man was the walking American stereotype that the Germans feared.

“I don’t know much about it, but Cynthia seems to be almost as paranoid about Galactic as I am, if not moreso. She just hasn’t been able to do anything about it publicly, for one reason or another. It’s a strange day that having a Champion stop by is beneficial to me, but I suppose I shouldn’t complain.”

Mustermann shook his head with a small scoff. 

“Forgive me, I’m getting off track. Back to what I was saying, I’m more than happy to sell to every potential customer that walks through my door, but in a business like ours, we have to be cautious. Cheap alternatives that break Pharma’Co’s League-mandated monopoly on synthetic potions are one thing, exotic Pokemon smuggled across regional borders or dangerous growth enhancing steroids are another. Our full inventory is only available to customers who we know we can trust, and I am happy to say that you now qualify.”

“Ah. So you feel safer around me now that you have blackmail about me causing the attack.”

“It’s called insurance that you won’t try to make a deal with the police if things get hot.” Mustermann took a sip of water. “So yes.”

“Does your expanded inventory include better guns?”

Mustermann made a so-so motion with his hand.

“It’s not in one of our particular fields of specialization, so I can’t promise anything, but I’ll make some phone calls.”

“I also want to reserve an ammo press. I don’t know when I’ll have the spare cash to drop on it, or how long it’ll take for you to get one and sail it over from Kanto, but I want one.”

“Done. Might I also recommend some new clothing? Your current gear is…” Mustermann hesitated for a moment, trying to think of an eloquent way of phrasing his thoughts. “Bluntly, it looks like it was buried under a building.”

“That’s because it was.” Mark thumbed at the bent metal and torn leather that his black undershirt was able to peek through. “This was the best I could find at the mart, and it still sucks ass- everything else was fashion first and function somewhere down the hall, on break.”

“That’s because most trainers want something flashy to stand out during tournaments and to sponsors. The types of people who are going into situations where they need actual protection are typically wealthy enough to get their equipment from specialized retailers, instead of the cheap scrap they sell at the Pokemart.”

“That’s stupid.”

“It’s supply and demand.”

“Still stupid. Anyone who’s willing to work with exploding Chihuahuas without protection is stupid, I don’t care how colorful they want to look for the cameras.”

“I feel like I should mention we have trainer gear in our inventory, if you're interested in purchasing it. It’s simple, functional, rugged, and provides moderate protection while still being somewhat lightweight.”

“Does it have a massive Rocket logo on it anywhere?”

“Of course not, that privilege is reserved for people under our direct employment.”

“Colors?”

“It comes in dark gray or green.”

“I’ll take two. It’ll be nice to wear some actual quality clothes, and have an excuse to ditch the cape.”

“Ditch the cape? Why would you do that?”

“It’s, you know.” Mark made a meaningless motion with his hands. “It was a drunk purchase, and seemed really cool at the time, but now that I’m sober, you know how it goes. It’s a lot of visual noise.”

“No more than any other trainer.”

“I feel like someone’s gonna call me a dweeb for wearing it.”

“I would pay to see someone try that, I have a feeling they would get punched in the face.”

“Yeah well I feel stupid.”

“I’ll give you a five percent discount on your gear, if you keep it as part of your outfit.”

“Why in the world do you even care?”

“Call it intuition about my investment.” The criminal said with a glint of something in his eye that Mark couldn’t make out.

“Fine.” Mark rolled his eyes and subconsciously tugged at the collar of his cape. “I’ll keep it, for the discount.”

“Fantastic, I’ll have those ready before you leave. Anything else?”

Mark shifted in his seat and pulled out the electric wallet he stole from Galactic. He popped it open, and began scooping out shrunken Pokeballs by the fistful- about 40 something in total.

“I snagged these during the bear attack. I don’t know much about how they work, but I know they have computer stuff in them and get connected to your trainer ID. How do we make them look legit?”

Mustermann smiled.

-Dragon King-

Cynthia walked down the roads of Oreburgh with a small smile on her face. The attack had been bad, but she had gotten here in time to prevent it from being worse. Already the broken buildings were swarming with construction teams, working hand in hand with Pokemon to rebuild.

Within a few weeks you wouldn’t even be able to tell that anything had happened. Pokemon truly were amazing creatures.

No one had been killed, and the few that were injured had been healed up at the Pokecenter without a single permanent injury. Including one very grumpy Dragon trainer.

Cynthia found said Dragon trainer alone at the edge of the city, sitting on a slab of concrete, from some building, overlooking the forest. He was pulling out the laces of his steel toed boots, and re-lacing them manually, to try to make the shoes fit better.

He was wearing something new, a deep charcoal uniform, mottled with an angular, broken camouflage pattern. Over the chest, back, upper arms, and thighs, the uniform bulged slightly, hinting at hidden protection beneath. Lightweight composite plates were sewn discreetly under the thick fabric, offering a layer of defense against shrapnel while maintaining enough flexibility to allow for freedom of movement. The shoulders and elbows bore extra padding, their ridged stitching suggesting additional reinforcement for high-impact areas.

The jacket, cut to a practical mid-length, featured an array of cargo pockets: two large ones on the chest, angled for easy access, and smaller ones on each arm. The trousers mirrored the design, with extra padding around the thighs, calves, and knees, to give complete protection while sliding on harsh terrain. Every seam was triple-stitched, ensuring the uniform could endure a beating.

“Can I ask where you got that outfit?”

Marcus froze at the sound of her voice.

“Can I ask why you care?” He called out without turning to look at her.

“Because it's a Kantoan design, you can tell by the shirt collar.” Cynthia said with a hum, touching a finger to her chin as she gave it a closer look over. “If I had to make a specific guess, it looks like it’s based off of old Kanto military gear, from the Brother’s War, specifically the rapid response forces.”

“I got it from an old geezer of a traveling merchant, apparently most trainers didn’t want it because it wasn’t flashy enough.” Mark said tensely. “Do I need to be worried that I got ripped off?”

“No, absolutely not!” Cynthia sounded almost offended at the implication. “The aesthetic isn’t for show, that’s high-quality Kevlar that can save your life from the splash of an errant Pokemon move. And the fabric? The Kanto League knew what they were doing, it’s treated to resist fire, water, and even some chemical agents, all while staying breathable in hot conditions.”

Cynthia’s rambling finally caused Mark to crack and look over at her with a bewildered expression, before something clicked and he had a moment of realization.

“Oh right. You’re a history nerd.”

“Those who don’t learn from the past are doomed to repeat it.” Cynthia countered with a thin smile.

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, at all. If you have a passion you love then you should pursue it through Hell and high water, because that’s something not everyone is lucky to find. I respect that. It doesn’t make you any less of a nerd, though.”

“I suppose not.” The champion said with a laugh, before humming, and eyeing him curiously. “You don’t seem scared of me. Most people who see Garchomp go all out start acting differently around me, even if they don’t want to.”

“Actually I’m fucking terrified.” Mark snorted, his hands gripping the strings of his boot too tightly. “I just have an unhealthy way of dealing with fear- it tends to help solve my problems though, so I’ve never found it to be an issue.”

Cynthia didn’t say anything to that, instead she walked over and took a seat next to him.

“...Why are you here? I doubt I have anything I can offer to the Champion of Sinnoh, right now.”

“Because I talked to Dawn, and she told me what happened. Professor Rowan is a good friend of mine and he would be devastated if she got hurt. Pulling her back and leading the Ursaring away yourself wasn’t something most people in your situation would have done. Dawn is a competent battler, has three badges, and is a star Contestant. Arguably she was more capable of defending herself than you are, but you still put yourself in danger ahead of her. Common logic would say it should be the other way around.”

“Just say what you mean , woman. If you think I’m stupid, then say you think I’m stupid. Double meanings and dancing around the subject are gonna piss me off more than any actual insult you can throw at me. Trust me, I’ve heard it all before.” Mark finished his boot with a final harsh tug on the string. 

“...She’s just a kid. I know your stupid legal system values badges and licenses over age, but she didn’t need to be there. It wasn’t right for her to see all that.”

“You’re right, she shouldn’t have had to see all that.” Cynthia said with a sigh, much to Mark’s surprise. “But we can’t afford to coddle the next generation, just like the generation before us couldn’t coddle ours. They need to be free to explore, learn, and grow on their own, so that when something like this happens, they’re able to pull through to the other side, because one day we won’t be around to help them anymore. They need to grow to be brave like you.”

Cynthis turned her head slightly, and looked at him from the corner of her eye.

“In Dawn’s words you’re one of the bravest people she’s ever met, but also one of the most insufferable. The contrast is driving her nuts. She wants to thank you, actually, but doesn’t know how, so I offered to pass it along for her.”

“If she doesn’t know how to thank me, money’s a good start.”

Cynthia chuckled at the “joke”, and the two settled into a semi-comfortable silence for a while, until Mark finished what he was doing, brushed himself off, and stood up.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to get going towards Eterna City. The leaf lover owes me a badge, and I collect my debts.”

“You have the Champion’s ear, and you’re just going to leave her sitting alone in the cold?” Cynthia smirked, propping her chin on her fist, and her elbow on her knee. “You have the chance to say anything you want to me, without the press slandering you just for breathing near me, and you’re just going to leave?”

Mark’s footsteps slowed to a stop and he turned back around to look at her.

“I can say whatever I want? No judgement?”

“Of course.”

“Then you’re right… I do got something to say, two somethings to say.”

“Oh?”

“First off, count your days, because I’m gunning for you. I don’t know when, I don’t know how, but I will beat you. I’m going to crush every gym, topple the Elite Four and pull the crown of this region off your head with my own bare hands, and nothing, nothing, is going to stop me.”

Cynthia’s smile only grew larger at his declaration, as if she was expecting that.

“And your second something?”

Mark hesitated for a few seconds, mulling over whether he should really risk saying it.

“Secondly… You’re really hot. Like really hot, and your tits are really nice.”

Cynthia’s smile died and her eyes widened in flustered shock. “What?”

“You heard me. You have nice tits. They’re way bigger than the pictures I saw of you before I came to Sinnoh, and they’re plump too. They have this little bounce when you move, which I don’t think you realize, but it drives me crazy if I don’t actively try to not pay attention to it. Combine that with your face, your ass, the way you walk in those heels, and you are drop dead gorgeous. You blow every woman I ever met back home out of the water.” 

“Thank you.” Cynthia coughed into her fist as she took a moment to compose herself. “You’re very, uhm, direct but that’s the most genuine compliment I’ve received in awhile. Much more so than what I get from the press.”

“I’m not done. When I beat you I don’t want prize money, when that happens I’m genuinely going to ask if I can get a dinner date instead. And not a sleazy drive through or a movie, either! I want to take you to a nice small time restaurant where we can sit down, and I can try to flirt with you over ribeye steaks and classic BBQ.”

“You would pass on a fortune that could set you for life, just to get a date with me?” Cynthia asked, failing to hide her amused smile behind her hand.

Mark glanced around to make sure they were still alone.

“Is the whole ‘no judging’ thing still in play, or have I overstepped?”

“No, no, of course it is. Please continue, almost no one talks to me plainly anymore, this is refreshing.”

“Cynthia, let me put this straight: you are incredibly beautiful, you strut around effortlessly in massive heels all day that turn your ass into a hypnosis machine, you have a nerdy obsession with something cool, you basically rule over an entire continent, and you could beat the absolute shit out of me without trying. Every single part of that turns me on something fierce.”

When he finished, Cynthia couldn’t help herself, she started to laugh. A beautiful, earnest, laugh from her chest, that had her tipping her head back and letting her long golden hair blow in the wind.

Mark, naturally assuming she was laughing at him, rolled his eyes and started marching off with a scowl on his face and a twinge of hurt in his thorny heart.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. We’ll see who’s laughing at who when I nuke your team into oblivion.”

“I look forward to seeing you in the Champion arena!” Cynthia called after him with a smile. “Don’t make me wait too long, or I might track you down instead!”

He had to be the three millionth trainer to declare he would beat her, but now she kind of wanted him to finally be the one to actually manage to follow through on that promise- just so she could see the look on his face when she brought her girlfriend to the dinner.

-Chapter End-

-Arc: Redline : End-

Poor Mark. But also not poor Mark, because he’s an idiot. But also poor Mark, because he’s an idiot.

Next arc: Mark catches his second Dragon, enters an underground tournament, and puts out recruitment for what is “definitely not a thinly veiled private military company, guys trust me. Hunting Pokemon like this is completely legal, I think.”

*Sips Hot Chocolate*

A giant thanks to the generous people who help get these chapters out faster, and get early access to a chapter ahead of what's out for the public, as thanks and to suggest changes.

The members of the Shadow Government, who funnel taxpayer funds directly into my corrupt wallet! Long may they reign!

JackHammer! (The Jeweled Smasher), Helios (The Honored!), MidnightHydro! (The Mighty!), 0RB! (The 0pulant!), Nuckles222 (The Nuclear Threat!), Rom Hack (The Robotic Housekeeper!), Indyk (The Insatiable Imperial!), NickPine (The Nefarious!), Turquoise (The Toxic Terror!), Signal (The Succulent), Kentucky (The King Jingoist), and Richy (The Royal)

The Champions! Leading the fight!

Nvsoulsborne, ShelDrake, Gage Donaldson , Thrawn, Wolfwind01010, Punchlinex7, Teltaios, Gabryel Scott, and Koi!

The Dollar Army! Marching with honor and glory!

Eledu, Blue_port, WiseKitsune, Alex Estrugo, Jaydon Adams, Elenium935, Max Buckner, Spam2Spam, GrimDeathKnight, Hamza Abfallah, SonicDJM, EngineerLife24, Prince of Ruin, SILENGE, DerHochi, Savage Scorpion, Summers Mori, Jerome Francis Lucasan, James C, SDA SPO, Red, The Muffin Rat King, Jesse Brion, HeavenlyReader23, Sean, TY Kelly, and Николай Корома!

And a special SPECIAL thanks to :

NickPine, MidnightHydro, and Eternal Guard!

Who have chosen to sub to the highest “Humanitarian” tier which I put up after my Bank got hacked and I lost a lot of money. Thay have literally kept me on my feet and let me pay bills.

Thank you all so much, you are my Heroes.

Chapter Text

Sorry, I've been busy with commissions. When I made a post on discord asking if anyone was interested, I was expecting, like, maybe one guy to offer me a sprite and three bucks, not to have more cash dropped into my wallet in one night than a full shift at my day job. Sorting all that has taken more time than expected.

Have this emergency chapter I have been holding in reserve. An “actual” chapter should be out sooner rather than later.

-The Dragon King-

-Arc Start: Call to Arms-

-Call to Arms: Ch 1-

Mark starred out at the path of destruction that carved its way through the landscape, all the way to the distant foot of Mount Coronet.

The heat. The way the ground shook. The air being pulled out of his lungs by the vacuum. 

He couldn’t get it out of his head- the only time that he could block it out completely was when he let himself slip into that dark place he mind went when it was quiet, where the ringing in his ears never stopped and the booming of artillery downed out everything else.

That Garchomp, that thing … How in the world  was anyone supposed to deal with that? And if he assumed that Cyrus was anywhere even close to that level in power, then- then- 

“I’m going to need a lot more than six Pokemon and a pipe dream.” Mark scowled, crushing the empty beer can in his hand and hurling it into the treeline. “I need money, I need guns, I need manpower, and I need a metrick fuck ton of angry Pokemon to point at my problems.”

Mark stood still for a bit, watching the peaceful wildlife frolic in the woods, with contempt. If he was going to go anywhere he needed to play this game by his own rules.

“...I need an army .”

He’d been thinking about it for a while now, and as crazy as the idea seemed, it wasn’t as far-fetched as the rational part of his brain said.

Grunts were kind of just everywhere in every branch of Pokemon media. Hell, even Team Aqua managed to get hundreds of rando grunts to sign up, and they wanted to end the world! He could totally get some suckers to sign up for his half baked idea to accrue power.

He didn’t have the want or know-how to make a near-cult-like following, like some of the bad guy teams seemed to have in the Pokemon canon, but he did have experience in his old world’s military industrial ecosystem.

There were plenty of private military companies back home (some that he even wound up working with while in the Army), and those guys were kept loyal enough to risk their lives with the simple hooks of A) a stable high paying job, mostly immune to economic shocks, and B) a work culture with a strong sense of brotherhood.

And let’s not forget old Uncle Sam himself, who got off paying his killers less than Blackwater did, because he had a mandate and a message as to why some people needed to be shot.

So just promise some money, the possibility of career advancement, and wrap it in some good ol propaganda to make it shine. And if he was struggling, just regurgitate some of the constant propaganda he was fed while in the Army. It shouldn’t be that hard.

. . .But it wouldn’t be called team anything! That was how you got plot armored Main Characters breaking down your door with a perfect IV and EV Charizard. It was going to be a completely legal, front-facing, Private Military Company that was going to make him lots of money (in a way yet to be decided, but those Teddiursa cubs had been worth a pretty penny), and know how to pull the trigger without questions when he told them to shoot.

His phone buzzed in the front pocket of his jacket, and he pulled it out to see a message from Hellena on his lock screen. 

The device was a smooth dull black, with no company logos or distinguishable features. He’d bought it from Rocket for a fair price, it ran on a custom OS that wasn’t under the League's data collection thumb, supposedly had a bunch of privacy protection shit that he didn’t understand, and could do some spy-shit if he needed to set that up for whatever reason. For example, the phone would open normally to a standard home screen that was fully operational, but if he opened and closed a certain set of apps in a specific order, it would boot to a second home screen where any dubiously-legal notes or documents or calls would be much better hidden.

[GhostGirl: Packed and ready to leave for Eterna, with full supplies for camping and hunting down that cave you want to find. Hopefully a bear doesn’t delay us a second time.

[King: I need to do something first before I forget, I’ll be there in 20mins.

[GhostGirl: Okay!

Mark sent a thumbs up in response, before moving over to the default social media app that most people seemed to use, and started typing out a recruitment message.

-The Dragon King-

Welcome to Pokechan.

What is Pokechan?

Pokechan is an alternative to the overmoderated BattleNet forums run by the League.

We are a simple image-based bulletin board where anyone can post comments and share images and videos to their heart's content. There are boards dedicated to a variety of topics of all things Pokemon related. Users do not need to register an account before participating in the community. Feel free to click on a board below that interests you and jump right in!

Be sure to familiarize yourself with the Rules before posting, and read the FAQ if you wish to learn more about how to use the site.

You are not currently logged in, all messages will be anonymous. A new “anonymous ID” will be generated every time you open the page.

You are viewing:
• All Threads.
• Thread OP is displayed.
• Images minimized by default.

:Sinnoh League Board:

► Anonymoney (Original Poster):

Investabros! U guys gotta sell! If u have anything in Oreburgh, sell NOW! Roark is retiring, and without a gym the value of every company in the city is gonna plummet! SELL! SELL! SELL! SELL! SELL! SELL!

► Anonymous83872395:

OP is the least schitzo Pokechan user

► Sphealacle:

I BELIEVE! SELL! SELL!

► Anonymous83872395:

As I said, the least schitzo user.

► Anonymous83899458:

He’s not going to retire after one loss to a rookie, dumbass. The attack was bad, but there have been worse. Maybe if someone died, I’d say there was a chance.

► Anonymoney 

He was useless in the attack because he got Steelix full KO’d trying to stomp a no-badgie. CYNTHIA had to swoop into the rescue. He’s cooked, trust me, I know people on the inside.

► Anonymous8548423:

>Knows a janitor.

>“I kNoW PEopLe On tHE InsIdE”

► Febastard (Verified Trainer):

Wait, hold on guys, PNBC just dropped the story. Check it out.

 [LINK]

► Anonymous83872395:

WHAT!?

► Anonymous83872452:

Holy shit OP is literally in the sauce

► Anonymous8548423:

THE PROPHECY!

► Gumpomo

ALL RRATS ARE REAL! ALL RRATS ARE REAL! ALL RRATS ARE REAL!

► Anonymous83872395:

“Taking a break from duties to reevaluate the responsibilities of a Gym Leader, and to become a better trainer for my team.”

LMAO! Did goetting pwnd by the dragon newbie really kick him in the balls that hard????

► Febastard (Verified Trainer):

Calm down guys, we don’t know for sure that he’s retiring. Officially this is just a training break, but it is not a good look.

► DragonFucker6969:

Marcus Cross is my new favorite to win the Lily Tournament this year! He is… THE BREAKER!

► Febastard (Verified Trainer):

Yeah, it was the “Dragon Master” with a single Dragon, not the massive attack on the city that Roark had to phone Daddy to help with. (Though Cross’ Gym battle WAS really impressive and had to be humiliating.)

► Anonymous83872395:

Doubly humiliating since Cross was one of the guys who helped stall that Ursaring long enough for help to arrive. Have you guys seen the picture of him punching it? It was badass af, but I have no idea how he didn’t lose his arm.

► DragonFucker6969:

BREAK-ER! BREAK-ER!

► Anonymous8387298:

I dunno why you guys are simping over the dragon guy, he’s gonna get snapped in half at the conference- all my money’s on Dawn, that chick’s sponsored by the regional profession, and blowing through both the Gym and Contest circuits like they’re nothing.

► Anonymous86473648:

GUYS! Veilstone put up a new pot, lmao. Who wants to bet if a second Gym Leader “takes a break” during this year’s circuit? They have the odds listed as 95 to 5 in favor of “no”, and there’s a minimum $50 buy-in, but if it happens… 

► Anonymoney 

Bought in. 5000P. Pic for proof.

*Capture.png* (click to expand)

► Anonymous83872395:

No way! Hahaha!

► Sphealacle:

I BELIEVE! BUY! BUY! BUY! BUY!

► :CoffeeCocker:

>Anonymoney 

Good bet, I have it on good authority that my wife Gardena will be too busy having HOT STEAMY LESBIAN S3X with me to fulfil her Gym Leader obligations.

► Anonymous8566435:

I think you mean MY WIFE Gardena!

► Anonymous8568631:

OUR Wife!

► Anonymous8548423:

> Febastard 

I wonder how they’re going to deal with badges. I know there’s not an official order to the Gyms, but Roark always just kind of defaulted to being the first or second Gym that people did, given that he’s the weakest and doesn’t even have different teams for different trainers depending on how many badges they have. 

► Febastard (Verified Trainer):

The article says that the league is looking into options, but that all 8 badges will be obtainable for this year’s gym circuit. 

► Urupa (Verified Trainer):

wtf, this cross guy has some balls on him. i looked him up and check out what I found: this was on a new BattleNet account verified with his trainer ID.

-i dont know how to line space-

ATTENTION PATRIOTS!

This country was built by those who refused to sit back and settle for less. By men and women who fought for freedom, for prosperity, for the right to carve their own path. That spirit isn’t dead- it’s alive in those willing to stand up and take what they deserve. And I’m looking for people like that! People like you ! 

I am assembling an organization of like minded individuals who are hungry for more in life. If you’re tired of being overlooked, tired of just barely scraping by, tired of being held back, tired of watching others control your future, then it’s time you take control of your life!

We’re looking for fighters, patriots, and true Americans who believe in hard work, personal freedom, and the right to succeed. Here, your effort determines your worth. You get a flat percentage of every contract you contribute to. The harder you work, the more you earn- no limits.  

-Real Money.

-Real Training.

-Real Missions.

-Real Brotherhood.

-Real Purpose.

History doesn’t write itself, Men like us make it happen . The only question is- how bad do you want it?

ENLIST TODAY! [Link]

► Anonymous83872395:

B-B-B-BASED??? o_O

► Anonymous86473648:

Bro, the enlistment link says he made over 2k in a single day from ONE of these contracts, wtf? And you’re telling me you get a percentage of each one you do for him? Bruh, there’s gotta be a catch somewhere in the fine print. He doesn't say how he made it, but ain’t no way this shit is legal.

► LoupuzzySniffer:

Could be lying, or just cherry-picking the top percent of the data.

► CitrusFlora:

SIGN ME UP!

► SonOfSinnoh (Verified Trainer):

Damn, the meet up is in Eterna? Gonna have to pass on this one.

► Anonymous83872395:

Your a trainer? Just fly?

► SonOfSinnoh (Verified Trainer):

Like all true Sinnoh Nationalists, I’m a native born Unovan and have never left my home country. I couldn’t fly there if I wanted to, because I don’t have the license for cross-regional air travel.

(Also I have an account on Pokechan. Do you think I ever leave my house?)

► KingExplosionMurder:

This is clearly the start of another Team, and you’re all falling for it. Fucking dumbasses, I hope you all die.

► Anonymous864736:

Take yo sensitive ass back to the Unovan board, this is the Sinnoh thread, we CLOWN in this mofo!

► Anonymous86473648:

Yeah, every non-Leauge private group is the next Team Rocket in the making, just like the Aether Foundation, the multi-regional environmentalist nerds that have won the ShellBell Prize for the last five years in a row. They’re totally evil.

*Clueless.png* (click to expand)

►LagBeGone: