(A/N) Hey guys, time to unveil our newest fic, "Chasing Shadows", taking a bit of a step out of our usual comfort zone by writing about Rooster Teeth related areas, branching out into a new Pokémon collaboration, and the prologue is here for your enjoyment!This originally started off, about two years ago, as I fic I began, which went by the same name, but soon abandoned due to time constraints, though the idea for it has lingered with me ever since. Now, I'm proud to be able to say, I think we're going to be able to do it justice, and I'm viewing this as a rebirth for my old "Chasing Shadows" fic, with some new great writers to give it an extra kick. We have some great writers on board, and I can't wait to work with them for the rest of this fic! We've got big plans here, and have put out the prologue as a bit of a teaser, to try and gauge the interest out there. Next update won't be for a while, but after that we should be hitting hard and fast with chapters, so watch this space!

Enjoy!

Prologue

All

Written by NicKenny, WargishBoromirFan, Gumby1011, SpoonyAzul,

InDeepDarkWood, Xehanorto & Minaethiel

"And suddenly you know: It's time to start something new and trust the magic of beginnings." ― Meister Eckhart

In the beginning there was Nothing. No sun, no moon, no grass, no trees, no water, no life. But out of this, a consciousness began to form, without body or thought, but driven by the simple desire of discontent, alone in the abyss of Nothing. For a long time, it lay in wait, gathering its energy into a single core of being. It gradually became aware that it was apart from the Nothing that surrounded it, and this epiphany confused and terrified it. If it was not Nothing, then what was it? Eventually, it reconciled itself with this idea, and wondered what it was. It decided that if it was not Nothing, then it would need a name for itself, to distinguish it from the abyss.

It spent a long time reflecting on this, before finally uncovering its name. With this discovery, the very Nothing that it had broken from shook, and in this chaos the being spoke its one word, shattering the Nothing. That word was the name it had given itself, the only word that it knew.

And that word was "Arceus".

I hear you sister. Even with all the distance of the world between us, I can still hear you. You should have known you'd never be able to hide from me. What am I but part of you after all? And how can you hide from yourself?

The gangly youth blended into the brush, hard to spot as more than a pile of stick-like limbs, a bag of leaf-covered foliage, and a shock of brown hair, a sleeping nest for the abra atop him. Then the forest moved, and it was difficult to say who vanished from the area quicker.

This creature, Arceus, looked around, and realised that the Nothing had been shattered, and that it was now malleable, and he began to shape himself a body, determined to make himself as different from the Nothing as he possibly could, now that he was certain of his individuality.

When he completed this task and saw that his work was good, he began to shape, from the nothing, companions to rid him of his isolation and loneliness, to delight him with their own thoughts and words and personalities.

And so he created his four children, Palkia, Dialgia, Giratina and Mew.

But not I. I wasn't shaped by the hand of a loving father, but by monsters who only wished for me to serve them without question, or dissent, in order for them to grow more powerful and decadent, ruling over others through the abuse of my abilities. I knew nothing but pain and anger, until I met you sister. You, who taught me peace. You, who taught me to see the beauty in every living thing, and to understand that not everything is inherently evil.

Yet despite that, my anger is still here, deep within me. I have heard it said that in the end all sins are forgiven. But not all, my dear sister. Some people deserve to burn.

A young man with precisely trimmed, black hair, a lab coat and glasses leans over a complicated machine. He is in a large laboratory, and all around him similarly dressed individuals are standing over similar machines. A screen across the front of the machine then blinks on, and displays the words "Process completed." The top half of the machine lifts up, and white vapours roll out onto the floor as the young man smirks to himself. "Welcome to the world," he says.

Palkia and Dialgia worked together to shape the nothing into space and time respectively, working together until it was impossible to tell where the work of one ended and the other's began. From their work planets, moons, suns and stars took shape, floating in the abyss of shattered Nothing which the scientists of humanity have since named dark matter. Oceans formed, and plant-life sprung up on these worlds, and Arceus, their father, was greatly pleased with what they had created, and entrusted them with the keeping of space and time so that these marvels that they had created could continue to exist and delight him.

Giratina, working by himself, immersed in Nothing, shaped a world for himself wherein he embraced the coldness and darkness, and this came to be known as the Reverse World. Arceus, moved by how his son had embraced that which he himself had broken from, and created something new and beautiful, entrusted him with the keeping of this world, and would eventually entrust him with the souls of all those among humanity and Pokémon who would pass away, their souls now living in the Reverse World, beautiful and immortal, guarded and loved by Giratina, thankful of the faith his father has placed in him.

Mew, the only daughter of Arceus, and the youngest of the four, wondered at her brothers' creations, but at the same time saw that they lacked something vital. Though their creations were truly wondrous, they could not compare to the wonder that each of them themselves were. In short, their creations were a far cry from that of their father, lacking the uniqueness that they exuded with every breath. Seeing this, Mew worked closely with smaller pieces of Nothing than her brothers had, and created what are now known as the legendary Pokémon, imbuing them with shards of her brothers' creations, such as water, fire and rock. While her works were miniscule in comparison to that of her brothers, they were just as filled with life as they themselves were, and Arceus was more pleased with her work than even that of her brothers. He decided that her creations would populate the worlds created by her brothers, those of Palkia and Dialgia while they lived, and Giratina's Reverse World after their deaths, for while Palkia and Dialgia's worlds were far more beautiful and suitable for Mew's creations, even Arceus couldn't grant immortality. One day he would die, and his creations with him.

But why should we die with him, sister? Why should my doom be predetermined by a father who never created me? A father that I have never met? Why should I not be immortal, a god among those lesser individuals which I am forced to dwell among? Why should we accept this injustice, rather than try to circumvent it?

He was a floodlight in the meadow, moving slowly, carefully through the lumbering beasts around him. The miltank paid the cream pokémon he rode only the barest hint of attention, lowing gently; the pinked hued animals were used to the proud rapidash blinding their eyes when he pranced past, eliciting a smile from the rider, his face hidden in the shadow cast by his hood, drawn close up against his cheeks, protection from the cool wind. He whistled softly, the sound travelling along the grass, and in the darkness, an eerie sound rose up, lonesome at first, but joined by another of its brethren, and then another, until the howls split the air. The miltank's hooded heads lifted in unison, their calls increasing in worry, and they rumbled into action, rapidash on their heels, his rider spurring them on to the safety of the farm, for what he hoped was the last time, for a long while.

Proud of Mew for having outshone her three brothers, he entrusted her with the responsibility over protecting all of her creations, and ensuring they all found a home, somewhere on the worlds created by her brethren. Mew travelled from world to world with her children, seeking a place for them to call home. Eventually she came across an island on a world that Palkia has recently shaped, hoping to help his sister in her search. Here they settled, naming the land Lohtan, and spread across the island.

She instructed her children in the art of creating living, thinking beings, and each of them created their own children. For example her son Heatran, dwelling in an active volcano amongst the lava, created the Magmar and Slugma lines, amongst others, finding inspiration in the molten rock in which he dwelled. He himself, and the mate Mew created for him, had – over the millennia – a handful of children of their own, and some of these spread out to far off islands, though most remained at home, for these lesser legendries did not possess the near-immortality of Mew and her brothers, and lived and died like all other Pokémon across the world.

I never liked Heatran. A vain, unintelligent excuse for a nephew. Fire is not where power lies, that much I know. It's in our minds, our psyches, where we gain true power.

Among one of the many paths of the forest, a spot of black and white could be seen nestled among the trees. Bright hazel eyes shone with happiness as she chatted with a houndour at her side, and she stopped briefly to brush a stray lock of dark red hair out of her face before continuing her soundless conversation.

Mew was proud of her children, and lived with them for many years, helping them enlarge the world they lived in, expanding the island and moving to others, until there wasn't an area on that planet that hadn't been visited by her children at one stage or the other.

Eventually she parted from them, leaving that planet to return to her father, hoping to please him with word of her discoveries and the creations of her children. When she reached him, however, she discovered that much had occurred in her absence. Giratina, jealous of her creations and the favour that their father had heaped upon her, had poisoned Arceus' mind against his children, spending every waking moment finding some way to prove to Arceus that Mew desired his power, and only created her children with the intention of using them against him.

Sometime earlier, Giratina had worked to create divisions between his brothers, Palkia and Dialgia, who had become aware of the state of their father's thoughts and sought to undo all of Giratina's work. It had been the work of an age, but eventually Dialgia and Palkia could no longer bear to look at each other, having been convinced that the other was actively working towards their own downfall and destruction, and Giratina was free to continue to turn Arceus against Mew and her creations.

So Dialgia and Palkia weren't always enemies? This is something that I had not been aware of. Perhaps your nonsensical ramblings are actually worth listening to. Then again, perhaps my time alone has made me soft. I miss you, sister. I miss our talks. I do not understand why you continue to ignore me.

A girl, no more than eighteen years old, with long blonde hair and startlingly green eyes, sat with her parents at a long table, mouth-watering food covering every available inch of the table's surface. A host of waiters and maids bustled in and out, removing and replacing that which had been eaten. Congratulating her on her recent graduation, her parents passed over a garishly wrapped box, and with a squeal of excitement the girl tore it open, revealing a pokéball within. Her smile, however, faded slightly when she released a bulbasaur, the grass-type glaring at its new trainer with unrestrained malevolence and hatred.

When Mew came before her father, expecting to receive praise and love, instead received contempt and disdain. Arceus banished her from his sight, using his power to ensure this command could never be broken. Both Palkia and Dialgia appeared before them then, to plead her case, but upon realising that the other was present as well, fell to fighting and bickering. This act only served to outrage Arceus further, and he banished Palkia to fly through space, never landing on the world he had helped create, never meeting another soul. He then turned to Dialgia, and cursed him to flit through time, unable to live with those he came across due to his inability to perceive time as they did, second by second, minute by minute, but instead was exposed to the whole web of time, doomed to forever be a part of every moment, and none.

The two brothers left silently, but Mew took one faltering step towards her father, and a tear streamed down her face at his feet, before turning and leaving. Arceus, moved by his daughter's act of remorse, realised the true folly of his actions, and fell into woe, for he was unable to unbind his children from the doom he had laid upon them.

Turning to Giratina, eyes full of wrath, Arceus banished him forever to the Reverse World, where nothing he would eat would satisfy his hunger, and nothing he would drink would quench his thirst. He was doomed to be forever cold, unable to leave the world he had created to view the wonders created by his siblings, until the children of Mew passed away and came to be under his care.

Arceus then fell asleep, weary without the energy that he had spent on banishing his children, entombing himself in a ball of obsidian, just before he lost consciousness. Many years passed before he woke, and much had changed.

Oh yes, and when he woke, the world had "changed". I should know, after all. I had been created by then. That was change enough in itself, or was to me. But I don't think you're talking about me, are you sister?

No Mewtwo, I am not. You know exactly of whom I'm referring to.

So, you've heard of them too? Interesting… I wonder, how long will they last out there, in the big cruel world?

The little girl ran her comb against her shinx's fur, eliciting a small purr from the electric-type. Like the other co-ordinators, she wore a white and pink dress with a matching hat, gloves and shoes, her blonde hair worn long and curled in little ringlets. It was almost time for the show. She noticed this while she placed a yellow lily behind her pokémon's ear, and a blue bow on the end of its tail. It wasn't much, but it had to be enough.

They will fulfil their destinies. It has been foretold.

But if they do not? You and I both know what fickle things prophecies are. How do you know they won't break beneath the pressure, and turn into that which they are destined to destroy? Power corrupts all kinds of beings, no matter how noble their intentions, or virtuous their hearts? What happens if this prophecy, like so many others, fails?

The older man smirked as he tossed his pokéball up in the air, garbed with the standard Team Rocket uniform. With piercing yellow eyes and a few strands of red hair from underneath his hat, he looked at his next 'opponent'. This one would go down just like the rest, and he, like all the others, would learn to fear the name 'Rocket'.

You almost sound like you want it to.

I sound like nothing of the sort. I am indifferent towards these children, their future is of little concern to me. My life will not change whether they rise or fall, I will continue to be, none the worse than I am now. But tell me, Mew, what if they fail? Where will that leave you?

A young, dark haired man strolled through a city's streets, appearing unconcerned as dozens of police officers milled past him, towards the glowing horizon in the east, the only visible sign of the raging inferno burning its way through a considerable section of the old western-quarter of the city. An absol padded by him, on his left side, and growled softly, causing the young man to glance down at it. "Don't give me that," he murmured, his grim eyes hardening. "You know it's the only way to flush out rats."

The absol growled again in grudging agreement, and the man relaxed. And in the streets, two words passed from mouth to mouth, as worried eyes stared at the glow in the distance: "The Shadow."

They will not fail.

They cannot fail.

And if they do, the world as we know it will end, and I know you don't wish for that, brother. I can see into your heart, and despite your anger you have learned what it is to love. If these children fail, there will be nothing left for you, only pain and despair. Hope will die, along with beauty, purity and peace. You will be forced to travel, much as I have, without hope of redemption.

…

So be it.