Professor Sycamore had just turned on the television to give his Garchomp something to do as he prepared dinner in the lab alongside Serena, Calem and his assistants. The large purple wyvern sat obediently watching the large blue flat screen. Sycamore turned away to fetch a few Torchic legs from the fridge when he heard a warning issue from the television. It switched from the ordinary Saturday morning cartoon to a horrible scene.
Cars were strewn about and many looked like a cult of vandals had decided to hate one person. Some cars were torn in half and a few blurred people weren't moving, but most of it appeared to be blurred red. Some of the people looked as though half of them were a good five feet from their body.
A headline read that Lumoise City was under quarantine and that no vehicles or pedestrians were allowed near the premises.
A man in his twenties walked towards the helicopter broadcasting the massacre, the roof he was walking on looked like someone had thrown red paint everywhere. The camera zoomed in and a Klefki was shown bringing a microphone man hadn't a scratch on him. He was adjusting a loose spotless white long sleeved V-neck and delicately brushing of his black wide-footed pants. He shrugged on the white lab coat he had been holding in his hands and walked over with a sincere, bright smile.
He was contrasted heavily by the fifteen year old boy walking beside him. He was wearing a red turtleneck sweater and jeans. His scaly feet and hands were ruby red and lizard-like with sharp white claws that appear to lightly raise the skin up to the second joint, he wouldn't be able to bend his fingers with his claws out and it looked like it must have hurt but he looked on humorlessly, lifelessly and pretty much just -lessly; His long snake-like tail had a bright flame at the end.
But what stood out the most over the entourage of red was that he had shoulder length spiky crimson hair as silky as blood on a warm night and his eyes and face resembled a foe from five years before who most Kalosians would like to forget.
"Hum? Why 'ello zere! Iz a pleazure to be able to speak to all of you Kalozianz but alahz it appearz your offee-cee-als din't wanz to anzer to mi! C'est le vrai, no? Zey did not believe in ze power of my wonerful Charmaunder Lysandre!" As he motioned to Lysandre many Kalosians ground their teeth.
" It waz pure lucke that haz brung mi mon chere Lysander. All you wantid to do waz help people, mais it appearz they din't wanz your help, no? Lysazndre and I will dezshroy all that we haz to until ze one known az Proffezor Sikamore answerz my summonz…Isn't it true Lysandre?" He teased.
"Whatever floats your boat, prof. Cerezo. They could burn alive for I care," Lysandre deadpanned.
"Aha! Iz 'e not perfect? Iz 'e not wonerful?" Prof. Cerezo laughed loudly, "You will all faze Lysandre's skill and you will all fail to surpass it! EMBER!"
The screen turned black as a ball of fire lit above Lysandre's raised hand and catapulted towards the helicopter…the last thing anyone heard were wordless screams. Sycamore sat down onto the ground all could be heard were murmurs that definitely weren't "Please, please no…"