An old man walked a lonely road in the dead of night. He’d been up and down this path many times over the long years, to the point he barely needed to look ahead. His eyes were downcast as they always were, his gait slow and expression melancholy. Even he scarcely knew why he bothered any longer. It was obvious he would never find what he sought, it had been for centuries. He was to wander the world forever, always looking but never even catching a glimpse. But he deserved that, didn’t he?
The old man pulled his ragged coat a little tighter as his mind opened old wounds yet again. Those trusting faces so long ago, turning to horror and then… he shuddered, though the night was warm. He knew why he wandered. Why he could never stop, not even for a moment. Not as long as there was even the faintest chance that he could somehow, if not make things right, then at least bring some sense of closure to it all. He owed it to them… he owed it to her, even if true atonement would forever be beyond his reach.
“Good evening,” a new voice cut into his thoughts.
As the old man walked down the road, nursing gnawing guilt almost as old as he was, he had failed to notice another man waiting for him.
“A pleasant night for a stroll, wouldn’t you say old timer?” a well-dressed, red-haired man stood alone in the center of dirt path, one hand on his hip and a half-smile on his face.
“Who…” the old man’s voice was weak from disuse, scratchy and parched, “Who are you?”
Something seemed somehow familiar about this man, though he could not recall ever once laying eyes on him before. Somehow that thought was tinged with sadness and just a little bit of inexplicable guilt. Then again, most of the old man’s thoughts were.
“You really don’t know?” The stranger’s smile broadened a bit. “You are out of touch. Allow me to introduce myself then. I am Lysandre, owner and proprietor of Lysandre Labs, and one of the most well-known men in Kalos. I’m surprised that you hadn’t at least heard of me.”
“What… do you want?” Few people ever talked to the old man anymore, not that he blamed them.
“What if I said that all I wished for was a family reunion?”
The old man’s eyes widened in shock for the first time in decades, as his mind cast him back much further. He’d had a brother once, hadn’t he? Yes, a proud young man of noble bearing and red hair almost as bright as the fire in his eyes. He hadn’t considered his sibling in years too long to count, but now that he finally did…
“You look… like him,” the old man breathed.
“Yes, so I’m told,” Lysandre said, crossing his arms. “While you don’t look a day over five hundred.”
The old man frowned, not liking the tone in his young nephew’s voice.
“What do you want?” he repeated, voice clearer and less raspy.
Lysandre’s smile fell as he met his distant uncle’s gaze, his brow furrowing.
“What I want is a world of eternal beauty and purity, free from the ravages of the selfish and cruel. A world scoured clean of those who would defile it, where people live in harmonious bliss with each other and with nature. A slate wiped clean of greed and pettiness, where the short-sighted no longer exist. A heaven on earth, if you will.” He sighed with a weariness that echoed the old man’s own. “But for tonight, I’ll settle for no more loose ends running about.”
“Loose ends? I-” he froze just a moment, as something clicked. “You want the weapon.”
“Correction: I have the ultimate weapon,” Lysandre said. “And it’s almost ready. That’s what happens when you leave your masterpiece simply sitting around for the motivated to find.”
“It is an abomination,” the old man hissed, fists clenching. “You do not understand what you’re dealing with, boy. That thing could-”
“Scour the globe clean of the undeserving;”
“What?! Are you insane?” he shook his head vehemently. “Listen to me, that thing runs on Pokémon lives, nothing good can come of digging it up again! You might think that you understand the costs and that the sacrifices are worth it, but all you will have in the end is dust and ash! Look at me!” he spread his arms wide, showing his unnaturally tall, lanky body and dirty, ragged clothing to its fullest. “I was a king once, and now I am nothing!”
“A natural consequence of a selfish and petty mind.” Lysandre growled. “You built the means to wipe the world clean and usher in age of eternal peace, and what did you do with it? Indulge your own self-centered wish to see your partner again, then lash out against everything in empty spite. Then you wasted the gift of immortality, tramping around in a useless and futile quest for your precious flower Pokémon, and for what? So you can say that you’re sorry?!”
“I…”
“You’re pathetic, uncle. You had all the time in the world to work towards everlasting perfection, and instead you wander about feeling sorry for yourself. And so the task falls to me instead.”
“I have no right to decide anything for anyone.” He shook his head. “Never again.”
“Yet you feel confident enough to tell me that I should leave your creation buried, hmmm?”
“I will not allow you to make my mistake! I will not let anyone make my mistake!” For the first time in generations, the old man was actually shouting. “I was even more a fool than I thought, I understand now. Burying that machine was not enough…” he met Lysandre’s gaze with an old fire in his eyes. “I should have destroyed it. I will destroy it, before it destroys you and everyone else.”
“So you do have some fight left in that withered frame, however misguided it might be.” Lysandre gave a tight grin with one corner of his mouth. “But I think you misunderstand me. I came here because you represent a loose end, a potential danger to my plans. And I won’t allow anyone to do that. So come quietly, if you know what’s good for you.”
The old man flinched for just a moment, then his face hardened. He reached into a coat pocket, pulling out a dusty, weathered, obsolete model of Poke Ball.
“Perhaps you are related to me after all,” Lysandre selected a ball of his own from his belt. “Very well, uncle, let’s battle. May the stronger bond win. Go, Pyroar!”
Lysandre chucked the ball into the air and a brilliant silver blaze lit up the dark night, startling what few nocturnal Pokémon were around. Most fled for the safety of burrows and tall grass as a tall, catlike Pokémon materialized on the road. Pyroar held his head high, mane glowing softly in the darkness, and growled out a challenge.
“Golurk,” the old man said with a simple underhand toss.
Another blaze of light, and a mighty blue humanoid figure appeared. More than twice the size of Pyroar and brimming with barely-contained energy, it stared down wordlessly at its opponent. The feline stared back, tail swishing back and forth in anticipation.
“Golurk,” he pointed. “Stone Edge.”
A trio of shining blue rings formed about the enormous Pokémon immediately, coalescing rapidly into rings of razor-sharp grey rock.
“Pyroar dodge it!”
The leonine combatant stared for just a moment as the rings circling Golurk cracked into hundreds of tiny shards, then bounded nimbly to the side as dozens of them suddenly embedded themselves into the ground where he had just been standing. The golem stuck out its hand and more stone blades flung themselves at Pyroar, but again the cat was too swift. It dodged with near-perfect economy of motion, escaping the attack once more with a single bound that carried it just out of range. Then it avoided a third and fourth attack with a well-practiced grace, staying just ahead of the shards each time as though mocking his heavier opponent. Lysandre smirked, his opponent grimaced.
“Earthquake!” the old man ordered.
Golurk raised one fist aglow with power and struck the earth with the force of a comet. The ground bucked, then split as shockwaves radiated in all directions. Both men were knocked from their feet by the sheer power of the attack as around them the field was torn to pieces, grass uprooted and tossed about while longed-maintained Nicada tunnels collapsed in on themselves.
But again, Pyroar’s training showed through. He held position until the last second, then leaped into the air just before the first shockwave reached him. He hit the cracked ground considerably closer to Golurk, rocked by subsequent lesser waves but keeping his balance all the same. As Golurk raised its fist to strike again, Lysandre shouted a command from where he lay in the dirt.
“Flamethrower now!”
Pyroar’s mouth unleash a jet of bright orange flames almost immediately, flying across the battlefield to strike Golurk dead on in the face. The giant staggered back under the onslaught but kept its footing amidst the broken earth.
Lysandre sat up, an eager expression on his face. “Follow up with Crunch!”
The old man struggled rise, ancient aches catching up with him, but managed through clenched teeth. “Dodge and use Hammer Arm!”
Pyroar’s sharp fangs gleamed with a silvery-white energy as he bounded forwards, hopping nimbly through the uneven terrain. Golurk rose to its full height to meet him, thick right arm glowing with a similar energy. It glanced at its trainer, who gave a slight nod.
The golem barely turned around in time to see the leonine Pokémon take a flying leap for its chest, fangs bared. Goluk leaned backwards and, almost instantly, its legs vanished in a surge of ghostly, rocket-like energy. It shot backwards with astounding speed and Pyroar’s snapping jaws easily missed its midsection. Unnaturally it turned on a dime, entire body swinging around to bring one massive glowing fist right into the cat before he could recover. Pyroar went flying, hitting the grass a good distance away and rolling yet further still.
Lysandre’s smile was gone as he regained his feet, replaced by an irritated grimace. His Pokemon, magnificent mane now covered in dirt and coat thoroughly ruined, followed suit with an angry growl as it rose. Golurk raced forward on its spectral energy, closing the distance again with fist glowing.
“I’m through playing around!” the younger man called with a fist clenched. “Pyroar, Dark Pulse now!”
Pyroar’s eyes gleamed vengefully as he opened up his mouth. A beam of black and purple rings took Golurk in the chest, blasting away all momentum and hurdling it roughly onto the ground.
“Now once more!” Lysandre ordered.
Before Golurk could recover, a second super effective attack smashed into its head, sending it flying back the way it had come. Its trainer, barely back on his feet after the Earthquake, had no chance to dodge before several hundred pounds of Pokémon bowled him over. The old man slammed right back down onto the ground as roughly as he had in a long time, hitting his head against an exposed rock. As he lay there, pinned beneath a nine foot unconscious golem and consciousness fading, his last thought was that now he had something else to feel guilty for.
Spearow didn’t know much about humans beyond their tendency to carry food and interesting shiny things. He didn’t know where they got such strong Pokémon from or why they insisted on battling in the flock’s territory. He didn’t know what the flying thing with the spinning blades the flame-haired one seemed to call was, or why the big white-haired one was dragged limply into it. He didn’t know why they had started a fight in the first place. And he certainly didn’t know anything about what an “ultimate weapon” was. In fact it would be entirely fair to say what he didn’t know about the situation that had just unfolded while he was out foraging vastly exceeded what he did know.
But, as he sat perched very, very, very quietly in the tall grass, he realized that there was one important thing that he did know. The flock’s new leader would definitely want to hear news of this as soon as possible. He should let her know what had happened here right away – just as soon as he was sure none of the terrifying humans were coming back, of course.