Before we get into the story and preface I'd like to remind you all to review. For any aspiring writer, feedback is what keeps them going and reviewing takes only a minute but helps out and shows more gratitude to the writer than you probably know. It makes it worthwhile.
Anyway, I said this story would be out a while ago but lost interest in the final stretch of editing just before I finished the second and final draft. But over a year later, on a whim, I did what work remained to be done because I feel like its a great story and I owe it to what few old readers of mine remain and to the rest of this community to share it. If you've been around for a while and read my other stories, I sincerely thank you. Even if I've moved on from such work, writing and knowing people read my stories really encouraged me to practice and grow as a writer. This is going to be my last story, as I'm moving onto other, very different things and owe it to you all to go out not with a whimper, but instead a mighty bang that celebrates all this more than in mourns its passing. With being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy.
Looking back, there were signs.
On the first day of the March, a great flood surprised the region of Hoenn. It all but decimated Pacifidlog Town and though everyone managed to evacuate safely, the only part of the town left standing afterwards was the foundation, built on a colony of Corsola. The sea level rose and heightened tides to record levels, but it was largely irrelevant as only a few minor tidelines needed to be tweaked. The lack of casualties was considered a miracle as strangely, no one, not even the country's top oceanographers predicted the storm.
Later, the Oceanic Confederacy got together a team of builders to rebuild the city atop the sea. The day they began the reconstruction ended hours earlier than planned when builders spotted something unusual on the horizon. The construction workers claimed to have seen something odd in the distance, a small isle rising up from route 130, just east of Pacifidlog Town. They temporarily halted progress to head out and investigate but before the workers could even step foot on the unknown land, it vanished. While the island never resurfaced, the hundreds of original crewman still insists on what they saw to this day and the tale of the fabled "Mirage Island" spread like wildfire.
Months after that event, Absols were claimed to have been seen coming down from the mountains just east of Mt. Pyre, along the Confederate-Republic border. As many as a thousand people caught glimpses of the beasts and while none caused any harm to citizens, they were bold enough wander right to the outskirts of towns and villages, lingering for days before being chased off, staring. Watching. A brief unrest ensued; Absols were said to be a bad omen, especially among the superstitious lot that lived around mount Pyre. But Pacifidlog was completely rebuilt, even updated and route 130 returned to its old self with many and more traders heading through to Slateport City and the Absols retreated back to the mountains, or wherever they go. Life went on, just as before and the talk of bad luck and foreboding faded. At least until the earthquakes hit.
Only the western Confederate territories were in the great quakes' radius and the Republic took the brunt of the quake. The enormous tremor was the straw that broke the camel's back. Hoenn hadn't been struck by both Floods and Earthquakes this sizeable this close together in centuries and it gave way for the perfect storm of rumours to roar across the region, citing both the disasters and premonitions as more than coincidence. All of Hoenn worked itself into a paranoid frenzy that was validated when another storm, a hurricane hit.
It was a torrential downpour with howling winds slicing through the darkened skies as thunder and lightning slashed the open air into pieces. Lower territories like Pacifidlog and the Battle frontier were evacuated to higher ground and even the great capital of Slateport sandbagged its beaches and battened down its hatches. But again, this came as a surprise. Oceanographers did manage to predict the disaster but it was only a week in advance and that was too close for comfort.
Nothing seemed to add up even after the storm passed and shortly after, the most peculiar, most rattling and alarming thing of all happened. Nothing. Nothing at all was there in addition to the hurricane; no flooding, no destruction, nothing. No property damage, no casualties, nothing at all changed that lay in wake of the storm as if it had never happened at all.
It was only before the storm when something, albeit of little, if at any relevance was discovered. As Pacifidlog evacuated onto boats heading to Ever Grande, they say they heard a scream. An ear-shattering high pitched shriek filled the skies, like some terrible monster writhing in pleasing pain, its deafening volume muffled only by the sounds of the storm.
The confederate citizens knew better than to treat this as a blessing and instead of celebrating their good fortune, they entrenched themselves more firmly than ever before in their ancient superstitions. There was nothing else they could do. They weren't going to abandon their homes and leave everything behind. No, the islanders took to their ancient rituals, all but forgotten in contemporary life and sacrificed morsels of dinners to the earth and sea and prayed not unlike the dragon priests of yesteryear to their old idols. Republicans would have scoffed at this, called them ignorant islanders but in truth, these many confederate people didn't believe it either, not truly; that time had long passed. They just needed something that would lay their weary heads to rest.
Autumn was beginning to loom after the first week of October. The leaves were changing, the seas were getting choppier, and the winds much much harsher. The skies themselves were getting more and more dangerous. No longer were the friendly Swablu and jolly ol' Pellipers gliding leisurely just below the clouds; only strong fliers could tread safely through the sky. Murders of Skarmory controlled the air, prowling for any unsuspecting prey that might be caught astray. Vibravas and Flygons soared against bold Swellows, Tropius maintained on constant guard to survive among harsher predators, and all feared the few Salamence that traversed the skies. Air travel altogether was getting more and more unsafe and travel by sea was just as risky with the increasingly strong open ocean currents. This, combined with the natural disaster paranoia, lead most Eastern folk to stay put for the season.
Ever Grande Island was the highest point in all of eastern Hoenn. It got snow every winter and even before the wind up so high chilled to the bone. Civilisation was split between the Victory Road cave; a small branch of towns to the south overlooking the cliffs and the falls and bigger cities populated heavily to the north. The separating cave was long and treacherous with many twists and turns lit only scarcely, with powerful Pokemon always abroad. It made it difficult to make many constant round trips to and from to bring supplies during the fall when few were willing to brave the open sea and ascend the falls. it wasn't abnormal for the small towns overlooking the falls to go weeks without contact from the North face or the Islands to the west. One day though, on a late supply trip just shy of a month after the last. A long and hard journey through the rocky chambers, the convoy arrived at the mouth of the cave, finally seeing sunlight after days of darkness. What they found when they exited the final cavern, however, made them wish they had never come upon the light of day. The nearest town, Cliff's Face it was called, had been utterly destroyed and lit aflame. Buildings collapsing in on themselves, chunks of brick and mortar missing from the structures displaying the gaping innards like an open wound. Those were the lucky houses. Most had been reduced to nothing more than a pile of ash and dust left to be scattered by the wind, as if it had never been there at all. Everything that could catch fire had caught it and burned hopelessly; the buildings, the grass, even the miniature cove leading down the water fall glowed an especially wild emerald. Hundreds of bodies reduced to blackened, unrecognizable mummies just laid there, like a twisted burial ground. The supply crew went on to check the other villages in hysteria. All the same. For as far as the eye could see the entire southern face of the Island had been bathed in flames; some orange, some green, it made no matter. No one had escaped.
Authorities were called in soon after- the crew couldn't get any kind of signal any of their Pokenavs with such a ferocious wind up so high and they had to travel back through where they'd came before Confederate officials were called in. Not only was it the authorities that arrived to bear witness to such horrors, but in a slow news cycle it brought out the press in droves. Through the next week, every newspaper east of Fortree had the front page plastered with the multi-coloured flames juxtaposed against doomed and destroyed houses reincarnated as cinder. A thorough investigation was conducted that entire week. Few facts came out; only that the government had not a clue to what happened. That left room for the press to speculate. Was it Republic forces? Standalone terrorists? Probably not. The republic had no way of moving unseen behind enemy lines to burn civilians alive, a war crime, that yielded no tactical gain. Neither were there any terror syndicates threatening the Confederacy and no one had even claimed responsibility. Every possible angle was covered by a hungry press seizing on the country's fears. But amid wild stories and questionable reporting that served only to sell papers, the only thing that seemed to be determined for certain was that the green fire was actually dragonflame. But even that turned up more questions than answered. The media storm sent everyone into a frenzy. The natural disaster paranoia of before had re-emerged, stronger than before. In light of such events, Confederate leaders had made it abundantly clear they would be meeting to discuss precautions to counter such an attack against a more major city and to find and put an end to this mysterious threat. The entirety of eastern Hoenn was anxiously waiting for something- anything to come up on the shadowy monster. They wouldn't have to wait long.
The Secret Shore, while only scarcely populated was home to a battling tournament that year. It wasn't a major, but it was one of the many for trainers qualify for the next year's annual grand championship, which dated back two centuries. A battleground had been dug out of a rocky hollow with cliffs on one side overlooking the port town's small bay. An outdoor stadium if it could even be called that, it was a series of courts surrounded by steel bleachers with a pavilion up twenty feet in the air on one end for the commentators spectating privileges. The air was salty and the wind chilly, but nonetheless the event yielded a very good outcome outcome in both audience and competitors. The Hoenn's battle guild had arranged for safe travel from most of the major islands and advertised the tournament greatly in association with the Confederacy for what was the first great commercial success of the season. On the second to last day of October, the contest began. Young talent were the majority of competitors as more proven and seasoned trainers were saving themselves for larger tournaments in the Spring But they proved themselves more than worthy of the challenge. It wasn't basic or partially evolved Pokemon brought to fight, no; it was great beasts of exotic species. Fire types, Steel types, even Dragons were brought out in great numbers. Aggrons steamrolled swift Shiftry, Blazikens mauled fierce Medicham and Sevipers, unhinged Dusclops menaced their prey into submission. The young trainers were anything but amateurs and the caliber of the battles brought excitement to even the most skeptic of viewers. The tourney naturally ran into it's second day and while the competition had thinned, the trainers' aptitude had not. In fact, the battles grew wilder, more ferocious. Rarer and stronger Pokemon were now the most common and none the weaker could stand up to such formidable monsters. Highlights of the second day included a long yet sustained fight pitting a monstrous Swampert against a deadly precise Metagross that ran a full hour which only ended when the tired, weary mud fish was finally unable to dodge a final Hyper Beam. There was fast paced match where Manetric and Breloom traded devastating blows. And the semi finals were capitalizing by an epic Salamence on Salamence showdown fought on both land and sky. But there could only be one winner and that winner could only be decided in the finals.
Showrunners staggered to expand one singular arena, dismantling half a dozen other stands and reassembling them around the one battlefield. The deciding match ended up being between a young woman of only seventeen sporting a short, cropped haircut in typical islander attire; shorts, a tank top and bandana opposite a rather bold twenty year-old with a crazed look in his eye. The crowd's bloodlust reached a climax when both trainers took their positions on either side of the field. They roared and screamed in demand of a worthy finale and neither competitor seemed keen on disappointing. The girl drew a razor sharp Crawdaunt and the boy a gargantuan Walrein who seemed to revel in it's newfound glory, glancing around at the audience and letting out a primordial roar before the match could even begin. Both Pokemon took their places and the referees made sure to be at a safe distance before blowing their whistles and beginning the match. Crawdaunt launched itself forward right off the bat and wasted no time tearing into it's opponent's fat coat of blubber. The great fat beast howled but it seemed to be just as much in ferocity as it was in pain and it headbutted the crab backwards, skidding fifteen feet before arising again. The Crawdaunt didn't balk at re-entering the fight, however, and followed it's trainer's command to dive right back into the fight. It was much quicker than the Walrein and circled it many times before making a move. The Walrein let off shattering ice beams trying to tag it's foe but just couldn't peg the crab in its fleet footed game of footsie. The Crawdaunt sensed an opportunity when the Walrein paused momentarily to recharge and it dragon danced before it's foe could pounce. The Ice walrus didn't stand idly by, though, and lunged forward, slamming into it's quick and nimble-if frail- foe at full force, pinning it underneath it's full weight. But Crawdaunt managed to loosen it's upper torso at least briefly and with all it's strength locked in pincers into the Walrein's thick neck. The Walrein yelped in pain and retreated but the Crawdaunt still held on, inching either hand closer and closer inwards, forming a terrible guillotine. The icy monster swung it's head and shook it's body but the Crawdaunt hung on tightly. With a final cry of pain, the behemoth let loose a blind water pulse that just managed to clip the crab and send it flying. It's trainer called something out that was unheard by all except his monster against the crowd's deafening cheering and with it's last ounce of strength, the Walrein stood deathly still with a noticeable chill in the air around it beginning to become visible. It was readying a Sheer Cold. The Crawdaunt got to it's feet, itself and with a command from it's own trainer, quickly dragon danced again. As both Pokemon prepared their final moves, the ground began to shake. At first only lightly, but it progressively got worse. The crowd, utterly absorbed in the battle, failed to notice, as did the trainers and active Pokemon. The Walrein suddenly snapped up and the Crawdaunt shot forward at breakneck speed with an Aqua Jet, both foes racing within a millisecond of each other to land their blow first and end the match to emerge victorious. But then, the ground shot up beneath them and suddenly everyone noticed the apparent earthquake in effect.
The crowd scrambled to try and get safety, trampling themselves as soon as they rose from their seats but as soon as it started, it was over. Then the great blood curdling shriek filled the air. It echoed through the Cliffside, bouncing off the many craters and stone pillars the Secret Shore encapsulated before fading away. The crowd, suddenly deathly aware of the unknown intruder looked around in equal parts terror and confusion. The culprit descended from the clouds above, with a terrifying wide open smile plastered on it's long, sharp face. The forty foot long flying green serpent stared at the hushed crowd from just above the edge of the Cliffside, overlooking the water. Scaled with markings and fins, the monstrosity coiled itself and paused, hovering in place with its miniature claws outstretched toward the great gathering. Someone in the audience screamed. The crowd erupted into a stampede, screaming and shrieking as they desperately fled away from the abomination. The serpent let out another shorter cry before straightening itself out and flying forward into the stadium. The stampede had still yet to clear out as the great threat loomed above, more than half still in the stands. The monster breathed out an emerald blaze, raining fire down from the sky onto the bleachers. The spectators finally began to pour out of the arena, but the tattooed monster was still just above. Many in the crowd were caught by the wafting flame, screaming even louder in agony as the serpent grew closer, turning it's attention to the people now that the stadium had been completely engulfed in an enormous green fire. Somehow, the finalist with his Walrein still stood in the arena, staring upwards at the serpent in shock, his mouth open and gaping before he came to his sense and looked around to find himself alone in a ring of fire with the serpent staring back. Whether it was madness or bravery, no one can say now, but the bold young man with the crazed look in his eye looked to his Walrein who somehow caught his glance and somehow understood. It had never loosed it's final Sheer Cold and now that escape was impossible, this was their last option. With a final breath, the Ice Walrus shot it's freezing, shattering blast with all it's might. The attack landed squarely on it's body, demanding another high pitched shriek from the beast as it staggered back. And then it recovered. Like the attacking Walrein's very own cry before it's match, the Serpents shriek seemed not to be out of pain but out of anger. The monstrosity jettisoned upwards and then arced back down in a swift turn, opening it's gummy, fanged mouth wide and loosening it's very own pulse. A regular orange flaming pulse. The Walrein found itself unable to cry out this time through the indescribable pain and the serpent abomination set it's eyes on the trainer. It let loose a beam of deep royal purple, catching the boy before he grasped what was happening. Unlike his Pokemon, he found he could scream out in agony just fine. Having done in both immediate man and beast, the serpent set it sights back on the majority of the crowd. The young trainer had bought them time enough to gain a lead on the attacker, but not a huge one.
The serpent followed the fleeing onlookers, flying without hesitation after them, giving chase. The many fleeing found themselves heading to the hollowed out entrances to the caverns inside the shore's great rock. None were large enough for the serpent to enter itself but neither were they big enough to house the entire group, running for their lives. They were good game, but ultimately the beast caught up to the group, now splintering into many smaller crowds heading to different entrances. It swooped down at the back of the line, snapping up only the slowest in it's mighty jaws before swallowing and proceeding to light a new blaze among those it caught. Many burnt alive for the serpent's satisfaction but luckily, the majority made it into the caves. The spectators still continued on, fast as their legs would take them even once eclipsing their entrance. No one would even dare be caught in the open, not when the consequences were so terrifyingly dire. So they waited, like mice scampering back to their hole in the wall, all through the evening and night, leading into the morning. The small clusters that had fled into the caves talked among themselves in hushed voices, despite that there was no way the monster could hear them. Pokemon were released from their Pokeballs and fires were lit. Swarms of Zubats occasional flew by, but the regular nuisance was a cause for relief among the hiding. It gave some semblance of the mundane to the thousand ripped apart by chaos caused by the unknown terror. Many tried to contact authorities via radio, to no avail. Everyone had retreated deep into the caves and the machine couldn't get a signal, even as they moved close as they dared to the entrance. In shock, it was in the wee hours of the morning that anyone felt it safe enough to send someone outside to check for the monstrous serpent. No one volunteered themselves or their beloved Pokemon as tribute, however, and the groups resorted to tribal fascism, ganging up on one another to force someone to scout out the outside. Eventually, that someone volunteered his own Ninjask, instructing it to survey the outside with her guard up and return once she was absolutely sure if it was gone. After a tearful possible goodbye, the bug followed the winding, jagged passage. Anxiously, the crowd waited but after only half an hour, the Ninjask returned. It managed to communicate that the serpent was nowhere to be found and after several separate confirmations, the crowd packed up what little they had and left. As it turned out, the Ninjask was right and the fire-breathing abomination was nowhere to be found. Radioing in to both a nearby ranger station and the Confederacy, the first group gathered up as many others as they could find hidden in other caverns.
The rangers finished the job when they showed up, followed immediately by a sizeable force of Confederate soldiers and officials. Whisked away from the sight of such a terrible atrocity, the spectators were brought to Sootopolis City to be questioned on the earlier events. The military force stayed behind to examine the scene and in case the thing came back. The tournaments unexpected, sudden stoppage created a mysterious phenomenon when details began to leak out, just before the refugees of the event were brought to the Oceanic capital. Only a week after the great Ever Grande mystery, everyone had to know what terrible events had transpired on the Secret shore, what had caused it all. But the Confederacy wanted silence for the time being, forbidding all who had witnessed the atrocity to speak about it to anyone except Confederate officials. Unwilling to be denied the story, news sources flocked to the capital like vultures. Both parties actively fought for their side, creating a tug of war over the victims, traumatized only days earlier. Eventually, the details got out and every newsstand had the horrific debacle chronicled on the front page along with pictures of the charred and crisped battleground. The real paranoia was unleashed hours after the first prints were released when a somewhat blurry photo snapped at the scene was published in Hoenn Magazine and it coined the creature as the ancient legend of the sky, Rayquaza. The photo induced a public firestorm that the government had to sedate, promising terrified civilians everything that could be done was being done. They announced that leaders from each major province in Oceanic Hoenn would immediately come together at Sootopolis to discuss a plan of action. Edward Wallace the governor of Fortree, Anna DeLawrence the governor of Mosdeep, Phillip Sampson the prime minister of Sootopolis, Alexander Carlyle, governor of Lillycove, and Roman Lee the president of Ever Grande all met between closed doors, with thirty posted around the building. They all sat in the Prime minister's mansion conference room, around a wheel table. Paintings lined the walls depicting Natural scenery and there were several water tanks enclosing different water Pokemon. A single photographer had been admitted before the discussion started and the heads of state stood up to one side for him to snap a photo. As soon as he left, they took their seats and wasting no time opening the conversation. They were no strangers to each other. "This is a catastrophe." Wallace began. He was man in his early sixties, sporting a slightly drooping mustache over a hard old face. "We have Continental forces growing bolder on route 119, hurricanes and earthquakes destroying our towns and now this dragon slaughtering and burning our people!" "I think we're all in agreement, Edward." The Mosdeep governess replied calmly. "But the republic is a problem for another day. Let them jab at your fortress; nothing will come of it but this dragon…" She trailed off, glancing around the table, study her fellow leaders' faces. "Is this truly Rayquaza?" It was the host, Phillip Sampson who answered strongly. "Everyone else seems to think so. We all saw the picture and read the reports. We have dragonflame, deep craters in the ground, and a battle stadium reduced to ash in just hours. What else could cause such destruction?"
"Nothing I've ever seen before. The dragon is not to be left to it's devices however. My top people seem to think it struck at the Secret Shore because of how loud a racket the crowd caused, though no idea why it hit south Ever Grande. It's proven it will strike indiscriminately and at random and as far as I'm concerned, it's our highest priority."
"Can we all agree at least on that last part?" Carlyle asked.
The table replied in unison. "Aye." They all said.
"So now this isn't a matter of if we're going to go after it. It's how." Carlyle pulled up a briefcase up on the table from the floor. He unclipped it's bindings and exposed it's contents: a few old leather bound books, each either torn, bent, or both. "Some ancient books on Hoenn deities." He said. "Oldest we have at the Lillycove grand library. They were written by the old dragon worshippers-"
"The Dracanoid." Anna cut in.
"-Yes, the dracanoid." He confirmed, throwing an irritated glance the governess' way. "From what we've heard of the dragon the information in these was spot on, describing great meteors called from the air and great green flame that cooked enemies alive. The witness's say it had tattoos- look right here." Alexander Carlyle flipped to a page and displayed it for to the others. It was a cave-style painting depicting simply a long green serpent. It had been painted with flat colors and was heavily faded, but unmistakable yellow markings covered the dragon head to fin. "I'm positive this was Rayquaza and if this is Rayquaza, we need to think of taking it on as we would any other Pokemon. Albeit an insanely powerful dragon-flying Pokemon." There was a short pause as the others took in this new information. It was clear no one wanted to believe it, but the evidence on the contrary was definite. Who else could this giant legendary dragon be?
"Are you proposing we bring in the military?" Roman Lee asked.
"Who else?"
Another pause, thought it was much shorter. "We've never taken on a foe like this before." DeLawrence inquired, adjusting her glasses. "While I'm in agreement about bringing in our army, this is one singular enemy we're taking on. Our soldiers and their Pokemon weren't trained for this."
"Anna's right. Our personnel can't be walking into an attack blind." Sampson said before adding- "We need them drilled and prepared for this. And we'll need to attack it on our terms. If we're going to kill this thing, it'll be through strategy. Not overpowering force." "We can't attack it on the mainland or the islands," Edward said, gruffly. "Can't have that much destruction that close to home." "Where then? How're we supposed to get an army out to a remote isle?" "Didn't mention anywhere remote. I say now that it hit us where we live, we hit it where it lives. I remember the stories from when I was a boy. Groudon came from the Cave of Origin right here in Sootopolis, Kyogre came from the deep sea Trench and Rayquaza the Sky Pillar. It's big enough and our army won't be exposed climbin' the tower. We know we'll find it there." "Do we?" Roman Lee asked. "Those are just stories, what evidence is there to actually suggest it'd retreat there."
"Quite a bit actually." Said Anna DeLawrene. "When the hurricane hit last month, Pacifidlog residents reported hearing a great shriek coming from the Sky Pillar, exactly as described by the witnesses at the Secret Shore. That was weeks before Rayquaza first struck."
"I still don't like it. Thinning ourselves out on the islands would leave us exposed should it decide to attack us before we get the chance to kill it."
"We'll put it to a vote." Said Phillip. While each province remained largely different states, when it came to larger issues like war with the Republic and threats like Rayquaza, they were all in agreement or none of them were. "For?" He asked. Phillip, Anna, and Edward all said-"I." leaving Alexander and Roman in the minority.
"Lee had a point, though." Said Edward Wallace. "We can't be left defenceless back on the mainlands. We can't take troops from Fortree, though. Not with Continental troops knocking at my door. It'll have to be a combination of Island soldiers and new recruits."
"Just for this one campaign?" The old man nodded.
"How?" Asked DeLawrence. "We'd need to increase recruitment by more than 80% to meet demand in such a short time."
A grin spread across Alexander's lips, lighting up his face. "We just need the right marketing campaign."
"What?" Anna scoffed at him, grimacing at the mere suggestion.
"You heard me." He said. "Everyone's fucking terrified of Rayquaza, absolutely mortified. We need to pander to young boys, market them to be heroes- no, saviors- heading off to slay the dragon and save the nation. What young trainer won't want to head off to the legendary Sky Pillar, especially if all his friends are."
Roman met his grin, suddenly beaming, himself. "Yes. Yes, I like it!"
"Young boys are the way to go," Edward agreed. "Throw in some war heroes leading the attack, too."
Alexander, while his grin now only reduced to a smirk, was positively giddy. In contrast, Phillip held a dark expression. "So we're in agreement. I know when I'm outvoted, but Alexander-" he paused momentarily. "These are boys, in addition to many seasoned men were sending off. Dying in war is one thing, but sent off to kill a dragon…" His voice trailed off and when it returned, there was a hint of hoarseness from a man who never forgot his composure.
"It'll leave a lot of boys burnt alive. No doubt it needs to be done but quit grinning like some fucking lunatic. The Islands aren't at full strength, either. Quite a few men are being sent out, to their deaths no less."
"This is it than. I'll ready my best generals to plan the attack." Wallace added grimly. "Make sure these troops are trained well. This is going to be a battle for the ages and I'll be damned if we're on te losing side." And so, preparations began to be made immediately. The Confederacy strong armed many large news companies into advertising what was pitched as a once in a lifetime opportunity to slay a legend for the good of the nation, not that they complained. It brought action to a country terrified by what they had read previously in their papers, potential glory for young trainers itching for a challenge. Hot of the presses, posters were plastered on every street corner in every town, city, and village, capturing Alexander Carlyle's vision exactly. It created a frenzy, due in large part to the time limit set upon the temporary recruitment. As Lilycove's governor had said, young men came out in the thousands, not just alone but with friends. None would be left out of such a glorious campaign. The Military, meanwhile, diverted as many men as they could spare to take on Rayquaza. Two thousand active personnel were shipped off to the major island Mosdeep, Sootopolis, and Ever Grande to train in specific exercises to prepare to take on the legendary dragon, joined shortly after by another three thousand young volunteers. Most of the latter would be kept in reserve, but truth be told not even the high commanders planning the attack to what to expect fully. Could a force of even this size make a dent against an honest-to-God myth, let alone kill it? It was as if they were asking their soldiers to bring down the sky. Nonetheless, they'd have to try. The press was all but ecstatic to cover the special force's training regimen. For only one week, the legion practiced non-stop brutal training, both the People and their Pokemon. Ice types were considered of the highest value and even after scouring the army, picking it clean of it's top ice type trainers, they still wound up short of a high demand. Dragon types were also crucial to victory. With super-effective stab attacks and the ability to maneuver through the air, they would be some of the only beasts to land physical blows on their great foe. Not that any other types were turned away; they needed all the help they could get.
While Rayquaza did not strike again during this time, it wasn't contained to it's home at Sky Pillar. Several reports placed it flying high through the sky heading west. The Confederacy had put a ban on large events that could draw the dragon to large crowds, though they neglected to share their information with the Continental Republic. Even so, the republic wasn't attacked, either and glimpses had been caught of Rayquaza returning to the top of Sky Pillar. Finally, the day came to ship off to Pacifdlog where the entire army would meet for the first time. Goodbyes were said, tears cried, and a great final speech regarding these brave men's sacrifice by the Prime minister of Sootopolis at a small U.S.S show right before the boats and Wailords left to leave for the small southern town sitting on the ocean. As always, the media was happy to oblige. Later that night, sailing on surprisingly calm waters, the young trainers boasted to each of how it'd feel to kill a legend. They all felt invincible, as boys and girls tend to at a young age but the Veterans hung to the backs of the rigs, simply waiting. Many drank or smoked, trying desperately to calm their nerves with some little success. In the back of every one of their minds, though, they knew what the next day would bring. They arrived at about midnight and then slept a good five hours before the captains let out the Explouds to wake up the encampment. The mighty host gathered beneath the shadow of Sky Pillar, forming up around a large clearing and their top commanders. Edward Wallace stood at the forefront of the stage, with many officers behind him. Thousands of eyes on him, he stared back, surveying the crowd in silence. A light rain drizzled down upon them, coming down from a darkened sky.
"Today," He began, projecting his voice loudly but with a certain quiet dignity. His volume was only to reach the masses; the words would speak for themselves. "We make history. Win or lose, die or live we make history. What we do today will be written down in the long history of Hoenn no matter what happens. History is written by the victors and that is indeed who I intend us to be by tonight. It isnt up to me, though. I ain't fighting. You are. We all read what the magazines said about our 'brave soldiers' going off to win the fight against civilisation but did that thing- Rayquaza?" He narrowed his eyes and moistened his dry mouth. "No. No it did not. Right now, that thing's is the only opinion any of you should care about, not your mothers or your girlfriends. It isn't any of them that decides whether you live or die. It's that thing. No matter what, the history books will say you fought bravely, gallantly but why should you care?" He spat. "I don't care if you fight greatly or poorly, cheaply or terribly 'cause at the end of the day, one of two things is 'gonna happen; you live or you die. That's the real history, right there. To win, you fight as a unit. You help your brothers and in turn they help you, everyone wins together. But to lose… You fight each for yourselves, for your own personal glory. Guess what?!" He suddenly screamed. "And you die. There's no glory in death, at least not alone." He paused and looked out onto the crowd. With his cold, hard eyes he stared them all down and then his voice loudened. "Do you all want to live?" The crowd answered in overwhelming cheer. "Good! Because if we win, you live! ARE WE GOING TO WIN?" The second cheer was even louder. "ARE WE GOING TO KILL THIS GODFORSAKEN MONSTER?" The group erupted into a cacophony, devolving into a sea of unabashed yelling and screaming. "THEN LET'S GO AND LET THIS BEAST KNOW WHO TRULY OWNS HOENN!" Cheers went up separate from the chaotic noise and Wallace stepped back, making room for one of the generals. He did wait a few minutes to let the chanting and hollering run it's course but then suddenly called out-"ATTENTION!" and the noise slowly died down. Perhaps in his mid 40's, the general looked more like a sailor than a military commander. He had a heavy black beard and thinning matching hair flaked with grey. Stern eyes and a hard jaw detailed his wrinkled face and he wore a long trench coat with military boots. "Find your unit and form up!" He boomed. "Scouts and fliers in one whole squadron, this is going to be a bumpy flight!" The crowd dissolved, each soldier making their way toward their troop. A faint murmuring spread over the camp but soon enough, everyone had lined up with their unit, nice and orderly. "We want 3 legions of 3 brigades each! Tanks go first, followed by shock troops then artillery!" The units again faded, but this time into 3 huge groups, encompassing the entire force. "Tanks!" The general bellowed one last time. "You have the most important job, shielding the rest of the army. You are our core and no matter what happens, you hold the line!" Then he stepped back, but not before shouting- "Move out!" The entire force moved back onto their boats.
Sky Pillar was only an hour's ride from Pacifidlog, but it was a very long hour for the troops. Even after the speech the Fortree governor, the young men especially felt jitters accompanied by terrified excitement. As they got closer and closer to the destination, the spire in the distance grew larger and larger. No longer was it just some ancient building but a stairway to the heavens, shooting a thousand feet straight up in the sky. One they'd be battling atop. The bay leading in was rocky; jagged boulders rose up from the sea like icebergs, uncountable in number. The water began feeling choppy as well and the rain kept coming harder. When they landed on the on the small beach the pillar had been built on, a great roar off in the distance could be heard. It knew they were coming. That only made the boys more excited to reach the top and the older men more terrified. The commanding officers oversaw the overarching formation the troops and Pokemon, once released, had made and confirmed it was correct, then set off up the crumbling tower. Boys with dreams in their hearts and stories in their heads marched eagerly to slay a dragon and old veterans just hoping to live, all the same they made their way up and up. The Sky Pillar was not what it once was. Collapsing in on itself with dark broken marble, many pieces of the walls were missing, letting the raging storm outside find it's way in. Lightning struck in the distance, thunder following no far behind. While wild Pokemon still inhabited the structure, they hid from the marching army like most tended to. It was a long trek. Hours passed before they were halfway up the tower and by then, most everyone had felt the dread sink in. This was the Rayquaza's nest. It's home. A dragon's lair. Suddenly, taking on the great beast lost it's appeal for even those who'd found it so in the first place. Edward Wallace's speech was the furthest thing from their minds and the confidence they shared as one now seemed blind arrogance. But they continued to climb, up and up into the clouds. Scouts were sent out gaps in the tower atop the backs of Flygon. At such a high altitude, Swellows wouldn't be able to carry their trainer's weight and no other flying type was fast enough to safely evade a possible encounter with Rayquaza. It wasn't until they had made their way to one of the top floors they knew for sure it was actually there. It roared another great roar and then came a muffled scream. A human scream. They pressed on, though and even sent more riders to the top. To have any chance at taking down the dragon, they needed time to move into position and to do that, they needed a distraction. The plan from the start was for a group of aviators to swarm around Rayquaza right before the bulk of the army ascended to the top floor. Two riders hopped on the back of their Salamence, saluting the army as they boldly went to meet Rayquaza in open battle, followed by several unmanned Skarmory and Swellow. One of them even smiled as his own dragon dove out the gap in the building. As soon as they heard the legendary monster's next roar. The frontline tanks and their trainers hustled up the final steps to the top of Sky Pillar, then the rest of them. It was nighttime when they reached the spire's summit. Heavy rain greeted them with the reflection of the moonlight and large puddles made the surface all the more dangerous. Aggron and Metagross, Slaking and Hariyamas and Swamperts rushed reverently towards their enemy.
The enormous green dragon sat coiling in the air, moisture running down it's long scaled body, it's yellow markings almost glowing in the night sky. Luckily, it focused on the sky fighters as planned. But there were only two left; one of the unmanned Swellow and one of the Salamence riders. The others were nowhere to be found. Rayquaza screeched again, swatting at the fliers like flies while sending vast purple pulses at it's prey. The Salamence, guided by it's trainer, narrowly avoided it by looping upwards but the Swellow was so luck, ending up squarely in the centre of the beam. With a final croak, the Swellow simply fell out of the sky with nothing there to catch it, all the way down to the ground. The Rayquaza, suddenly aware of the new presence, turned to the line of tanks blocking the way. They stood shoulder to shoulder, digging into the ground and fortifying their position like a chain. Hundreds more had made their way behind them and lined up themselves along with their human soldiers. Rayquaza scanned the army with it's glowing yellow eyes, pausing with it's mouth hanging open, display a row of razor-sharp cleavers. It flew upwards, straightening out vertically into the sky. Out of range for all but the few more aviators that had entered the battle, the grounded thousands sat defenceless, staring up at the great shadow of a serpent. Even beyond the great dragon, distant figures began to loom ever closer. Spheres- boulders rained down from above, racing to the top of the tower at a breakneck pace. A cloud covering the moon passed by, exposing a huge ray of light. Suddenly it became clear: those weren't boulder. They were meteors. But there was nowhere to hide. Half a hundred summoned meteors collided with the Sky Pillar and those on top of it. With a small tremor, hundreds of cries-both Pokemon and people- rang out in sheer agony and the Rayquaza mirrored them with it's single loudest terrifying shriek before rushing back in. There was no time to spare. The frontline stayed strong and adjusted, closing the gap of their fallen brethren. Thousands of flames, rocks, energy beams, lightning bolts and projectiles fired from the top of the tower in erratic fashion, meeting the closing serpent in open air. It staggered only momentarily but still maintained it's course, swooping down and unleashing a blazing flamethrower along with scores of targeted lightning bolts, itself. Commands were shouted out on deaf ears, shrieks of pain went unnoticed under the devastating attacks being flung from above and below and the pitter-patter of rain stayed constantly in the background. Miraculously, a dozen Glalies grouped together and loosed uncontrollable of blizzards. Camerupts, Manetrics, Exploud and enormous Claydols followed, capitalizing with their own ranged attacks. The Rayquaza howled in agonizing fury, it's cry becoming shriller and shriller with each landed blow. It got knocked back, the most amount of visable damage they had been able to instill on it yet. Battle cries went up and barrages of continuing fire continued, though the first had also knocked almost the entire airforce plunging out of the sky, too. Agitated and stung, Rayquaza retreated upwards once again and let loose an endless stream of dragon energy, aiming it's vortex at every corner of the top of the spire. It wiped out half the force with a grating whoosh, completely scattering what was already left of the ranks. The front shield of tanks had taken the blunt of the attack and behind it stray trainers and beasts lay ripe for the picking. The serpent-like dragon paused again except this time, noticeably sucking in energy in advance of an attack. A powerful attack. Somehow, one shout went up and made it's way across the blackened, burned battlefield, littered with charred and decapitated corpses.
"Now!" It cried out in desperation. "Hyper beam!" Troops and Pokemon alike scrambled to strike back, to weaken it just enough to reform their lines… but then the attack came. Encompassing the entire surface of the tower in a bright white light, the sky lit up, the crowning fire to the tower's torch. Bodies deteriorated and were flung hundreds of feet off the structurer, down the side. The Rayquaza shuttered in midair. Exhausted from the attack it had to recharge. To it's surprise, dozens of huge pools of light remained, spheres rising up from the Pillar's roof. Fading, they revealed pockets of survivors safeguarded by Gardevoirs' protect. The soldiers formed up again, with what little they had left. Perhaps a quarter of everyone they had set out with remained, but they continued on, beaten, bent, but not broken. The few tanks left alive were bloodied and battered but they still took to the front of the pack, linking up once again to Shield their brothers in arms. Behind them, a mess of others launched uncoordinated special attacks with every ounce of their strength. Few hit and only by chance, but they weren't the only ones worn out. What remained of the airforce continued to torment the spiralling monster, landing super-effective, physical, dragon type blows. The few that stayed airborn were Salamence an while Rayquaza was a living legend, Salamence was the next best thing. They clawed and jabbed at Rayquaza until the very end when it finally returned fire with rushes of it's own. Finally having eliminated such a nuisance, the legendary dragon summoned lightning bolts down to where the last pocket of resistance remained, grouped conveniently together. The last stragglers hadn't let up with their attacks, however, and continue to retaliate against the airborne terror. Rayquaza breathed a flaming breath upwards and then descended into a dive, charging against the Confederate soldiers one final time. "Hold the line!" Someone managed to yell over the downpour, which had begun to drown out everything else. "Hold the line!" Someone repeated meekly, from the opposite end of the formation.
In the dark of night, wet, tired, and utterly weakened, the frontline stood against the legendary Pokemon Rayquaza, master of the sky, controller of the winds, a thousand feet in the air. They dug in and stared straight forward to the charging monstrosity. Rayquaza slammed into the tanks, sending them skittering back as it attempted to force it's way forward, slowed almost completely down. The innumerable scattered attackers, artillery and shock, nailed their foe at point-blank range with the last boulders, icy blasts, and firebolts they could muster. Rayquaza, the great legend pulled up. It tried to let out a screech, but no sound came out except a sick gurgling and it fled desperately to where it had come from: above. For a few minutes, everyone stood in silence. Then, unable to even continue that, the tanks collapsed in utter exhaustion. Many soldiers followed suit but the overwhelming feeling was positive. They had defeated Rayquaza. When legendary Pokemon were badly beaten by regular Pokemon, they always banished themselves into permanent exile, likely in shame. All around them, though, there was nothing but death and destruction. Corpses laid all around them, many Humans and Pokemon had died painful and excruciating deaths for them to reach where they were. There was a burning smell, only faint because the rain had drowned out the sense, as it did speech. More time passed before someone remembered to radio what had happened back to base. The early light of the morning gradually rescued them from the void of absolute darkness and by then, the radios had been tuned and found several known frequencies. The first, to Sootopolis turned up buzzing and static. The second, to Lillycove fared only slightly better. "Kzzt!—Sending—Buzz- Fortree!" Was all they heard before it cut out entirely. Finally, they adjusted the antenna to Edward Wallace and his basecamp at Pacifidlog. "We read you loud and clear!" The receiver replied before a higher officer was put on. "We… we did it." Said a soldier. A huge gash lined his cheek and the back of his head was partially burned, but he spoke with surprising coherence and consistency. "We took down Rayquaza. It's gone." No one cheered. Not the commanders, not the foot soldiers, not even the recently enlisted young men. They couldn't. "Send Tropius carriers for us. I don't think we can make the climb down. And… something for the bodies. There are many of them."
There was a pause between responses. "-What?! Bloody seas, what's happening?!" He louder and more distressed than Paul but somehow, something didn't add up. "What? Base, we beat Rayquaza, it's gone!" The soldier said, worried. "What's going on?" "The Republic! Bloody fucking seas, the Republic!" Background voices could be heard stressing and calling out in absolute chaos. "Those motherfuckers knew we'd gone to sky pillar! They knew!" A crackling overtook the radio but it cleared I time for the message to come through with unmistakable clarity. "They've laid siege to Fortree city!"
I had a big sequel for this planned about an epic Hoenn civil war. It was going to have huge world building, the surface of which was only scraped in this story and it was going to be ongoing whereby scale was achieved through build up and the passage of real world time. Alas, it's cancelled along with that sequel to Pokespe High if you remember from those days. Its interesting to look back at it all and see the evolution not just the semantics of what I wrote but also how I thought and therefore penned what I thought would be interesting. Instead of the sequel itself, I'll offer a retrospective on the original, nostalgic as it is. Its actually pretty competent as a very sophomoric soap opera. If you can get the amateurish invention and disregard for various (minor) plot points and ignore a juvenile perspective, then for me at least it's a pretty good read. Thanks again to everyone that made it this far, both in the story and following me. Gratitude only begins to describe how I feel about this, not to mention more than a little bit nostalgic.