Dystopia:
Noun dys·to·pia \ (ˌ)dis-ˈtō-pē-ə \
An imaginary place where people lead dehumanized and often fearful lives (Webster Dictionary)

Davin ran through a barren forest of grey, twisted trees. Once, the leaves on the trees had hung joyfully, bright green. That was Before. Before time stopped. Before the darkness. Now, the leaves had long since been eaten away, leaving the trees dead, grey husks. It was a good thing there were still so many grass-type pokemon around, otherwise the oxygen would have soon been reduced to barely anything, leaving no life in the barren wastelands of the planet.

The sky too was no longer a bright blue, but a dull, soulless black. No sun, moon, or stars were there to light the way. Solgaleo and Lunala were far, far away. Close enough to warm the planet, but far enough to shed no light through the cloaks of darkness that shrouded the sky. As such, both people and pokemon were used to seeing in the dark.

But Davin thought nothing of his bleak world, nothing about the light that he had lost. He had grown up in the darkness, never knowing that things had ever been different. He had grown up forever fighting hostile pokemon and humans, forever trying to survive in a barren world.

And now, he could hear another scream, just like the one that had brought him into the woods in the first place. One of his survival tactics was to stay away from the forests, because they provided cover for the outlaws and hostiles that lived there - not the kind of enemies he wanted to make. But he was throwing that instinct away, all because of a scream. If it had been from any other voice, Davin would have ignored it. He didn't want to get involved in any conflicts, and he was happy to mind his own business. But the voice that had made this scream, he knew.

It was the voice of his younger sister, Marie.

Davin hadn't seen Marie since the two of them were teens. He had no idea just what kind of trouble she was in. But she was the only company he had had when he was a child. She was the kind of person he would do anything - well, almost anything for.

A few more strides and he burst into a clearing. Immediately, he knew that something was very, very wrong. Marie lay on her back, barely moving. Blood soaked the ground around her - too much blood! Davin knew that nobody could lose that much blood and live. Swearing bloody revenge on whatever had taken his dear sister from this world (a swear he knew he would never follow up on), he slowly walked to her. Instead of a bleeding wound, he saw the most unexpected thing on her chest - a tiny, newborn baby girl.

"Who is the father?" Davin murmured, holding Marie's head close. He could feel her heart beating faintly. She was still alive, for now, and could tell him who to send the baby to.

Marie's eyes opened, revealing light grey-blue eyes, the exact same color as Davin's. With a groan of agony, she pushed the baby into his arms.

"Take care of Solace." Marie pleaded. Davin looked down. Solace. Of course silly, optimistic Marie would name her baby Solace. At least it wasn't Hope.

Davin had always known that Marie was too hopeful, too cheerful for this world. She always thought the best of everyone, and was as gullible as could be. It still surprised Davin that she hadn't died much, much sooner.

Marie was being way too optimistic if she thought that he could take in a baby. He already struggled to feed himself, let alone Solace. "Please, Marie. Tell me who can take care of the baby, because I can't." Davin pleaded.

Marie looked at him with desperate eyes. Exhaling one last breath, she whispered, "Dimensional Scream."

And then her eyes closed, and she was gone.

Davin felt tears brimming in his eyes as he stroked her jet black hair for the last time. Marie was forever gone. Her loving innocence would never light up his world again. A single tear threatened to emerge from Davin's eye, but he sucked it back in just in time. Tears would just make him colder. This is nothing new, Davin reminded himself, I've seen people die before. Why waste time crying over the things I cannot have?

Instead of weeping like he wanted to, Davin forced himself to look at Solace again. The poor baby was shivering, whimpering for her mother. She would die if she was left here, from cold, starvation, or hostiles. But what was Davin supposed to do about that? And if what Marie had said was true, if Solace really had the Dimensional Scream ability, this baby was bad news. Very bad news.

Instantly, Davin went over what he knew about the Dimensional Scream. It was supposedly some kind of hereditary ability that let its owner - human or pokemon - see visions from the past, present, or future, all revolving around some weird gears, provided that they touched certain objects and had a trusted pokemon partner. When a child with the ability was born, the mother would somehow just know. And the Rewriters, a secret rebel organization dedicated to changing the past (Davin had no idea why), wanted to use anyone with the ability for unknown reasons. This was probably why Dialga, the tyrant who held power over the world, had anyone with the ability killed, as well as their family. And the Liberators, another rebel organization that wanted Dialga's corrupt government overthrown and were enemies of the Rewriters, also killed anyone with the talent.

If anyone found out that Solace had the Dimensional Scream ability, Davin would be killed for being the girl's relative. He shared Marie's hair color and pale, sun-deprived skin tone, as well as her eye color, so he would be easy to recognize. And if anyone found him near the place where Marie had died…

Davin had to get out of there. Now.

He turned to leave, but it was too late. A white head forced its way through two trees near the clearing, with the winged body pushing its way into view. It was Togekiss, a pokemon who worked for Dialga. Togekiss had been feared for as long as Davin had lived, yet she was growing old, and there were rumors that she would be replaced by Dusclops.

"Greetings," Davin said in an effort to reduce any suspicion Togekiss might have of him. The last thing he wanted to be was an outlaw - or worse, a corpse.

Togekiss snorted. "Do not play dumb with me. I saw everything. The illegal Dimensional Scream child, the obvious kinship between you and her mother."

"I am in no way related to this child. I just happened to see her lying here." Davin lied desperately.

Togekiss laughed, a horrible screeching sound. "As if. You, human, and the child, are now enemies of Dialga, and I am within my rights to kill you both!"

Togekiss lunged forward, grabbing Davin by the shirt. With a shriek of defiance, Davin pulled out of Togekiss's grasp and pelted into the forest. He was still holding the baby, though he did not know why.

Davin was surprised to realize that he was faster than Togekiss in the forest. If it wasn't for the trees, he would have been dead before he was two yards away. While Togekiss's bulky wings became tangled in branches and slammed into trees, Davin's skinny body could fit through the smallest of gaps between trees, though he still had to duck every now and then to avoid a brilliant blue Aura Sphere attack.

As he took another turn into the deeper forest that was now his only hope, Togekiss gave a final bellow and stretched her wings to the fullest extent. This proved to be a bad idea. Both of her wings crashed into thick oak trees, and the sound of cracking bone rang through the air. Togekiss fell to the ground, her wings twisted at impossible angles. Davin knew she would never fly again, if she even survived the injury.

Pelting for the edge of the forest, Davin could hear her final bloodcurdling scream, "No! They cannot get away! Fire-types of Inflora Forest, aid Dialga and set fire to the forest! Burn it to the ground!"

Davin watched Inflora Forest blaze, smoke drifting up until it blended in with the ever-black sky. He was safe in his cave, far up Rugged Mountain. Safe from the fire, at least. In this world, no one was ever truly safe. And now, Davin was about to be in more danger than ever before.

Because he couldn't leave the child. He couldn't leave Solace, no matter how hard he tried.

Come on, he told himself, I can't take care of a baby, let alone one with some illegal freakazoid ability!

But yet...Solace was the only family he had now. And something in his conscience - oh, that blasted conscience! - would not let him leave her behind.

Maybe everything would be fine, once the two of them moved far from here. There was strength in numbers, wasn't there? Solace could help him when he was old and weak. And as for the Dimensional Scream, he could make sure she never partnered with a pokemon, never touched anything that would give her a vision. She wouldn't even know what she could do until the time was right.

Davin held Solace closer. She was part of his life now.

Musharna looked up, up at the starless sky. Her old bones begged her to get some rest, to go to sleep. As leader of the Rewriters, she knew she needed her rest.

But she couldn't sleep. Not now. Not after what she had learned. Venonat, one of her spies, had told her that Togekiss had been killed in a forest fire. It should have been happy news. Musharna should be celebrating the death of one of Dialga's most loyal followers. Yet she couldn't, because she knew who would take Togekiss's place. Dusclops.

Just as she thought his name, Musharna wheezed as her damaged lungs failed to pull air in. A series of coughs forced their way from her mouth, growing louder as Musharna struggled for air. Though she had experienced this many times before, a constant reminder of her first and only encounter with Dusclops, Musharna felt a pang of fear that this would be the time that her luck ran out, that this would be the time she died. But, just like the other times, she felt her coughs easing, and with a ragged gasp she sucked in as much air as possible. Once she had steadied herself, she reflected on her latest coughing fit. It was worse than last time, that was for sure. Little by little, her coughs were growing harsher, her breathless moments longer. Musharna knew she didn't have much time left. She was tough, but she was old, old enough to be one of the few pokemon to remember Before. Old enough to see each of her friends die - all but one, Chandelure. Old, but not old enough to forget how Musharna had coughed up the Shadow Ball she had inhaled in her battle with Dusclops, and the fragments that she coughed up flew right into Toxicroak's chest, killing him.

In this era of frozen time, aging worked oddly. For some, life went by in a blink. Others aged as slowly as a slugma. Worst of all, the oldest pokemon always seemed to be the vilest. Togekiss had been a slow ager, as had been her predecessor, Tangrowth. So then, why were Musharna and Chandelure so old? For a split second, an image of all the pokemon Musharna had killed popped into her mind, but she shrugged it off. I had to do it to end this deplorable world, she reminded herself. Another pang of guilt wracked Musharna as she thought about her poor followers, so many of them unaware of the fate that awaited them once they changed the past. Hopeful Dorothy, sweet little Treecko…

No. Musharna would not think about it. Sacrifices had to be made in order to put an end to the misery.

Hearing a rustle from behind, Musharna spun around, hoping to see the patrol she had sent out looking for a new base. Their current base in the Holehills was on the verge of being discovered, and it was no longer safe. Chandelure, Kindra, and Mandibuzz had gone looking for a new base, but there had been no sign of them since. Musharna was almost positive that they were late. But there was nothing...or was there? That silhouette in the distance, could it be...

"Musharna!"

Musharna's heart leapt as she heard Raticate's voice. Raticate had been captured long before the Rewriters had moved to the Holehills, back when they were still hiding out near Mt. Blaze. Most of the Rewriters thought he was dead. But now he was here, alive! And floating behind him was Chandelure!

"Raticate! What happened?" Musharna yelped, seeing the condition of the two pokemon. Raticate had scratches and clumps of fur missing all over his body, and where one of his paws had been there was only a stump. Chandelure, however, had a huge bleeding gash down his back, and was struggling to keep his eyes open.

"First, Chandelure needs help!" Raticate's voice was hoarse, as if he had worn it out screaming - and, in all probability, he had.

"Deerling! Castform! Wake up! Chandelure's here, and he needs help!" Musharna shouted. A few tense moments later, Deerling and Castform were up and dragging Chandelure into the healing cave. Musharna turned her gaze back to Raticate.

"Chandelure's patrol was ambushed by the river," Raticate explained. "Apparently, some of Dialga's followers were looking for you guys over there. You really need to move your base, you know."

"I know," Musharna muttered.

Raticate's fur bristled as he went on. "They took him to the same cell I was staying in. They had been really frustrated with how I wouldn't talk, no matter how hard they tried. That's how this happened." He gestured to his wounded arm.

Musharna opened her mouth to congratulate him on staying silent, but he continued before she could speak. "They attacked him, and they said they wouldn't stop unless I told them something. They must've thought we Rewriters were a bunch of softies or something."

"Did you say anything?" Musharna asked.

"Of course not!" Raticate snapped. "They got tired after a while and left. Then your new spy finally managed to get us out." It had been agreed that since the spy was in such a tight position, their name would not be spoken aloud in case of eavesdroppers.

"You all right?" Musharna peered at Raticate's missing paw, and he flinched.

"I'm fine. The wounds were designed to inflict pain, not to kill. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed." Raticate turned away and dashed into one of the caves designated as sleeping areas, leaving Musharna alone once again.

Musharna sighed, looking back up at the starless sky. Things were definitely getting worse for the Rewriters. As more and more knowledge of the old times was destroyed, Dialga gained more power. Musharna was old, but not old enough that she couldn't hear what some of the grumpier Rewriters said. They said that this would get them all killed. They said it was hopeless. And, in some ways, it was. No! Things were bad, but not hopeless. Even though there were so many deserters. Even though Dialga's forces and the Liberators clashed with them more and more often. Even though more Rewriters died in every battle. Even though there were so many places to look for Time Gears, and they had only found one Time Gear so far.

Musharna could not, would not give up.

She was so focused on her thoughts that she didn't notice Deerling behind her until Deerling spoke. "Musharna."

Musharna nodded. "How is Chandelure?"

"I'm sorry. I couldn't save him." Deerling whispered.

Musharna's last true friend, last pokemon who she had known since before time stopped, was gone forever. Never to speak to her again. Never to look at her again with those trusting yellow eyes. Gone.

Yet Musharna did not cry or wail or do what she had done when the first of her friends died. All of the pain, all of the suffering had made her almost numb to sadness. She knew it was there, but she could not feel it as sharply as she once had. This was not uncommon among the people and pokemon, and it was often the first step toward hostility. But there was nothing Musharna could do.

"Um...I've been thinking, Musharna."

Musharna was jerked out of her thoughts by Deerling, who was still in the same spot.

"Yes?" she replied.

"Everything's getting worse. We're losing good fighters in almost every battle. We have only found one Time Gear. And your lungs are getting worse. Don't try to deny it," Deerling looked down. Once, all of the deerlings changed colors as the seasons passed. Now, there were no seasons, and the part of Deerling's fur that was supposed to change color was always black. This never ceased to astound Musharna, though young Deerling had never known any different.

"Yes, I'm getting worse," Musharna admitted. "But everything will be all right. You'll see."

Deerling shook her head. "We're losing, Musharna."

"There is always hope, Deerling. Even if we've lost everything else." Musharna said quietly. "We can't give up. If we give up, then we're no better than the hostiles we are trying to save. No better than the ones who stand around doing nothing while Dialga ruins their lives. Remember what we are fighting for, Deerling."

Deerling paused, thinking, then slowly nodded. "I should get some sleep. See you later."

Musharna watched her go, then turned back to the sky. Despite the success of the argument she had made, she knew that other Rewriters would be harder to convince. Morale was drooping. She would not be around to hold the organization together much longer.

If something did not change before long, the Rewriters would crumble, and all would be lost.