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For a minute, all N can do is just stare.
It… it had occurred to him, logically, that this was a possibility. In a battle, there is always a winner, and always a loser. He had lost to Hilda before, even, but--
He had lost.
The penultimate battle, the battle that would decide the fate of Unova, like something right out of a storybook. The final test that would prove his convictions not just to Hilda, but to the world around them.
Two legendary dragons, locked in a fateful battle with no winner… That’s the story from centuries ago. But if N could beat Reshiram--if N could be a winner in a battle that had never finished--it meant he was right. That his convictions, his ideals, were strong enough to prevail.
Hilda’s face is an expression of relief and pity. N thinks he should be angry at the latter, but all he can feel is a crushing emptiness in his chest. She says nothing, and N should be saying something but his mind was empty of all thought except the fact that Hilda was stronger, Hilda’s team was stronger, her convictions and her ideals…
N thought he was enough. That everything he had spent the past decade working towards was enough. He was supposed to win. His convictions were supposed to be stronger than hers.
“You- you good for nothing brat!”
Father’s voice is so sudden and abrupt in the silence that had lapsed in the throne room that he can’t help but flinch. He appears from behind Hilda, shoving her out of the way and storming up to N with a fury in his lone eye that he hadn’t seen in… years, probably.
He’s surprised by how unsurprised he is when the slap comes.
Father backhands him across the cheek before he can even begin to think of something to say, hard enough to make his head spin. “After all that, and you think yourself worthy to share the name Harmonia with me?”
The incandescent in Father’s voice is enough to shock N into speaking. “Father, I- I thought-”
“Shut up!” Ghetsis snaps, and N does, teeth clicking together, shoulders hunching up to his ears. Recalls, dimly, that it’s been ages since Father last got this mad.
“I went through all this trouble to help you find and reawaken the legendary Zekrom, and I even had allowed you to put your beliefs on the line to battle this… this so-called hero because I saw the way she motivated you. But now you’re telling me that you, the King of Team Plasma, lost to an ordinary trainer? There is such a thing as being too stupid!”
“Oi, fuck off!” Hilda shouts, but the words have already landed deep within his chest, and N shrinks, wrapping his hands around his front. His face stings from the slap.
“I’m not saying anything that isn’t true,” Ghetsis growls, finally turning to face Hilda, who looks ready to throw a punch herself. “I thought I could help N reach his true potential. But it appears he is nothing more than a warped, defective boy who knows about nothing but Pokemon.”
“Oh? Then, if that’s the case, I’ll have to help you reach your potential--your potential for being a selfish, mean and egotistical jackass!”
“Hilda, you don’t-” N starts, then stops, when it becomes clear by the look on her face that she’s not going to back down. If she was the type to back down easily, he thought idly, they wouldn’t be here. Or, she wouldn’t be here, at least. She looks ready to fight, physically if needed, rolling one shoulder.
“I have much more potential than you’ll ever dream of,” Ghetsis snarls, taking a step towards Hilda, his cane thudding on the ground. “Why Reshriam even chose you as its hero, I don’t know. But that doesn't mean you're a threat. Even a Pokemon revered as a deity is still a Pokemon. It is still, as evident by N here, that it can lose.”
It took N a moment to gather the implication of the words, and he swears he feels his heart stop in his chest when he realizes what Ghetsis meant.
“I won’t allow anyone to stop me! Not a Champion, not a failure of a king, not even a teenage brat who doesn't know when to quit!” Father shouts, his voice echoing in the large space of the throne room. “I will rule over this world and manipulate the hearts of the foolish people who know nothing, until I, Ghetsis, will be the one true ruler of this world!”
With a flash of light, Father releases Cofagrigus from its ball, and in turn, her Chandalure lets out a battle cry. N feels his heart stuttering in his chest again as he takes stock of the situation.
Father was an absurdly powerful trainer. N knew that much, even if he didn’t know the exact details of his team outside of Cofagrigus and his Hydreigon. And while Hilda was certainly skilled, as evidenced by their own battle, her team was weak, still fresh on the heels of their battle against him.
It wasn’t a fight she could win.
And then N processed the second half of his sentence, confusion echoing in his brain because Father had never said anything about ruling the world, never said anything about manipulating the hearts of people.
Hilda’s next words confirm the dread in his stomach. “So you really were just using Team Plasma for your own deeds. Liberation was never your true goal.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! What use would there be to throwing away such useful things like Pokemon?!” And then Father looks over his shoulder at N and sneers, and that is somehow worse than his crushing defeat at Hilda’s hands. “Talk of Pokemon liberation was all I needed to manipulate N into working for me. It’s a shame you turned out to be such a disappointment. Cofagrigus, Shadow Ball!”
“Will o wisp!” Hilda shouts back, and all N can do is stare as he processes the information.
Using him. This entire time… Father had been using him. He had never planned to liberate Pokemon, only to… rule them. Rule humans.
He feels lightheaded with the sudden urge to throw up, or worse, to cry, stomach in knots as it dawns on him. This entire time… N thought they were doing something good. N thought that… that they were going to help Pokemon. That he and Ghetsis and Team Plasma were going to make a perfect world for them.
The sting of the backhand suddenly feels small in comparison to that realization.
Was he… wrong, then? Everything he had worked for, everything he had dreamed of… was it really wrong? He didn’t think- he thought- N was supposed to win.
“Overheat!”
The world lights up in flame and heat as Chandelure attacks, but N feels as though he’s no longer inside his own body, merely watching the battle between his Father and Hilda as though it were a motion picture. Cofagrigus falls, and then Chandelure, and the battle sort of blurs together in his mind and all he can feel is a creeping dread because there’s no way Hilda could win.
Except… Hilda does win. N’s… not entirely sure how, only that he’s brought back into the present moment by Ghetsis shouting in anger, his cane banging against the ground, as his Hydregion lays defeated next to him.
“You- How?!” His father roars, as N blinks back to himself. “You- this isn’t possible! I created Team Plasma with my own two hands! I am absolutely perfect. I am perfection!” Another banging of the cane on the ground, and N flinches. “How could I lose to an ordinary human like you?!”
Hilda does not flinch, though, and stands her ground, Reshiram looming at her side and staring down Ghetsis and his Hydreigon. With the light streaming in from the hole in the castle, she looks radiant, like a herobook story. Like the Hero that N thought that he was.
That, at least, made N feel a little less bad about himself. But only a little. Even with Ghetsis’ words ringing around in his head, the loss stung like a broken limb.
“Does it matter? You did,” Hilda shoots back. “Give it up, Ghetsis. You’re finished.”
Somehow, like some mechanism in him had unlocked with Father’s loss, N manages to find his voice. “You… Father… this entire time, you were just… using me?”
Ghetsis whirls around, and N takes a step back. “Of course I was. I knew there was no way I could ever awaken the legendary dragons myself.” A sneer crosses his reddened face. “You were naught but a useful tool, and even then you turned out to be a disappointment.”
N’s shoulders hike up, and he glances down at the ground.
“Don’t listen to him, N.” This, from Hilda, her voice steady and grounding. Perhaps, if he was being illogical, even kind. “He cares for nothing and no one but himself. It’s no use trying to reason with someone as cruel as him.”
“Hah!” Ghetsis barks out a laugh, and a feeling of dread pools quickly and deeply within his stomach. “Do you really think that you can get through to someone like him? N is nothing more than a freak without a human heart!”
Everything after that happens in a blur. N’s head snaps up, reeling at those words, when Ghetsis shouts again, and then Hilda shouts and then Hydreigon roars and—
Hilda bodily slams into N, tackling him to the ground as a blur of black flashes in front of his eyes. Someone screams and N falls backwards and then he hits the ground and something in his leg crunches and he screams, too.
There’s another roar, loud and angry, and a flash of light and more shouting as N tries to steady himself. Stars flash in his eyes he tries to sit up, can’t, realizes Hilda is laying on top of him and oh Arceus she’s bleeding.
N feels like throwing up when he sees the damage, three long, angry slashes across Hilda’s shoulders and back, bleeding profusely. Her clothes were ripped and she was gasping in pain, gripping N’s arms with her fingernails digging into his skin.
“Oh, shit,” Hilda gasps as N scrambles to sit up, only for the motion to send a shock of pain through his leg. Someone is shouting and he’s not sure who it is.
“Hilda,” N breathes out, eyes fixed on the slowly bleeding wounds on her back and everything around him seems to narrow down to the fixed point of Hilda, hurt and bleeding.
Reshiram roars and N looks up and sees a blast of energy hit his Father’s Hydreigon and his leg feels twisted in a way it shouldn’t be and N thinks, dimly, that this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
He can’t stand—your leg is broken, a small, rational part of his brain reasons—so N pulls Hilda up into his chest, fingers yanking mindlessly at the clothes around her wounds to try and get a sense for how bad the damage is.
And it’s just that, bad, blood welling up beneath his hands and N thinks he’s stopped breathing at some point. He shakes Hilda once, twice, gasping, “Shoot, shoot, Hilda, what- what do I do?”
He had helped out injured Pokemon before but he suddenly feels thrown out of his depth, thinking this wasn’t supposed to happen and—
And N can’t move, he realizes, and he knows enough to know that she needs medical attention but he can’t move and Hilda is quickly sliding into unconsciousness and his team is too weak to help. Maybe Concordia or Anthea could help but they’re not here and N doesn’t know how to reach them, doesn’t know where they are at this point.
Somewhere in the room, Ghetsis is shouting, but it feels far away, as though N is hearing it under water.
All N can do is pull Hilda close to him, trying frantically to slow the bleeding from her back, and curls up against the wall, salty tears staining his cheeks.