Disclaimer: I do not own the Pokemon series, or any of its content.

I love the smoke that rises in plumes, both black and red-orange in the glow of fire. I love screams that are torn from throats for the final time. The crumbling buildings. The machines that spout water to quiet the flames, but the flames only roar louder, unconquerable.

I drink in every moment.

I love the smell of burning, of ashes, of years of pointless progress gone up in fire. I savor the look of terror on the human's faces when in the night my form is outlined by flames against columns of smoke. Their shrieks are music, sweet music. The more they fight me, the more lives I take, for I am indestructible.

Invincible.

I flew through the air, relishing the wind on my face and the feel of my body in flight. So sinuous, so . . . graceful. Yet more powerful than any creature, for no creature of mankind, otherworld, Pokemon, or otherwise, has the strength I have bestowed upon myself. Of this I am certain. I coiled my body, twisting and turning in the air, testing my flexibility. It knew no bounds.

Among humans I am known as Rayquaza. Human carvings in the walls of caves depict me as a fearsome beast; uncontrolled, mighty, man-eating and war-thirsty; He of Bloodied Fangs and Quaker of the Earth. A serpent with razor-sharp teeth and flashing claws that with a single roar can call for the heavens to downpour and flood whole cities.

To them I am Destroyer. And rightly so.

For who can stand up to me? No Pokemon that has ever challenged me has emerged victorious. Only a sparse, worthy few were able to escape with their lives. I am millions of years old. I have seen things that no other creature has seen. Both my age and experience are reflected in my worn, hardened scales; my claws sharp enough to pierce stone; my fangs that can reduce boulders to no more than rubble.

One foolish species, however, believes that they can control me. To tame me. My maw opened wide, and the very air around me vibrated as I laughed.

Humans.

I think two things when that word is spoken, mentally or otherwise.

First, I think of selfish destroyers. Humans have taken land and twisted it to fit their dreams of horror. Only the skies, my territory, are free from their grasps, for no one dares to challenge me!

And at this I roared with pride. I roared so loudly, a terrific, awe-inspiring resonance that started deep in my throat and worked its way up to a scream, that the mountains miles upon miles away shook and trembled and echoed my call among their walls.

Secondly, I think of cowards. Weaklings. How such a pointless species came to be is beyond even my imagination. Their power comes from those that they subdue: Pokemon. Humans challenge my power. They deserve to die, just as the Pokemon that are weak enough to be subdued by them. Any Pokemon that joins on the side of humans (for reasons that I have pondered why for millions of years, and am still pondering) challenges my power also. I never back down from a challenge. And anything that challenges me will die, and die fantastically.

I saw through the clouds the farm that I have been visiting.

Many, many moons ago, I lived off of the particles in the air, in the sky, only rarely coming down to hunt for food with more substance if I needed it. Then I decided that such a great beast as I should not live in such a way; it is degrading to live a life supported by such miniscule particles. I needed something of mass that could not only satiate my hunger, but could allow me to live up to the fear and danger associated with my name. So I began to hunt meat.

This particular farm has been fruitful. I have visited it for many moons and find the Grumpig to be fat and satisfying. The human owner harbors deep hatred for me because I have been feeding off of its Grumpig clan. This does not bother me, for I hate it as well. I had, at first, considered devouring the human as well, but I decided against it. Someday, yes. But for now, he could do nothing to stop me from feeding off of his Grumpig, and I supposed I could keep him alive because he kept the pig Pokemon large and filling and fit to eat.

I was due now for another feeding.

I angled my body downwards, towards the farm. While descending, I picked out the Grumpig that would serve as my meal: the leader of the flock. The human was especially close to that one—apparently it was its favorite, its "partner" Pokemon, as they call it. His "starter". That particular Grumpig had been kept inside during my other visits and, unwilling to waste my power on such a thing, I simply picked off of the others. It will be amusing to see how the human reacts to my devouring his favorite, most treasured Pokemon. I have not burned a town in long while—five human days, I suppose, if you demand an exact time—and I could use amusement.

The flock scuttled apart as I landed on my two forelegs in the middle of the field. I roared, taking pleasure in their frantic baying. While the others ran away in all directions, I bolted towards my target. It only had time to unleash one, blood-curdling scream before I was upon it. I silenced it.

The scream continued, however, from behind me. I turned around to see the human owner, his face frozen with a contortion of the emotions I have observed to be fury and grief. The intensity of his emotion startled me, I will admit, because I had only ever seen such passion when I killed a relation to a family. It puzzles me. Humans, and Pokemon also, cry for their lost homes that I burn, but they cry in a completely different way when a relation or some sort of living thing loses its life.

. . . why? Both are things they have earthly attachments to. Why do their reactions to the items lost vary from one object to another?

After millions of years, this question still befuddles me.

Suddenly a whirring noise came to my ears. I spun around to take a look and to see what it was. A large human machine with blades that sliced through the air, giving them flight. It was enormous, much larger than I, which angered me. It had two metal forelegs with a strange beam between them. The air around that beam seemed to be still.

I growled and released the dead Grumpig. It thudded to the ground and the farmer, with a strange wetness on his cheeks, rushed out to mourn it. Flight was a gift bestowed only upon the elite. These fools did not deserve it!

Somehow I blamed the human farmer for the newcomers. He was human, after all, and so were they. Enraged that my feast had been interrupted, I blamed him blindly, ignoring the fact that the chance they were familiar with each other was slim. What's the point in thinking it through? A chance to destroy was but another chance to show my strength.

I opened my maw and blasted its house. Splinters of wood were tossed everywhere. Because it was pleasurable—fun—I released a beam of energy in a wide circle around me to bring the rest of the flock to an end. Wherever it missed a Grumpig, it hit the ground and began a fire. They ran around wildly, shrieking madly, but in moments they were no more but shadows consumed by flame. The human farmer cried out, but the flames consumed him, too. He roared in agony and collapsed beside his fallen partner.

Content that he was destroyed, I turned to focus my attention on the newcomers but was too late. A wave of energy swept over me. Some invisible force too strong to break was holding me. I was frozen in the air, suspended, between the two metal forelegs from the machine. The beam between them paralyzed me, held me in place.

I tried to scream but no sound tore from my throat. My heart beat faster and seemed to clench and unclench wildly in my chest. Was this the emotion humans called . . . fear?

But I cannot be afraid!

As the beam held me I began to lose energy. My limbs grew heavy. I couldn't shake free and my attempts grew ever weaker. No. I couldn't be subdued this easily! I wouldn't!

Despite my defiance, my attempts to free myself were pathetic. My energy was completely zapped. I could no longer support my head. I hung limply in the beam's grasp. The strength it took to lift a single claw made my vision fade and flicker.

I was being defeated.

No . . .

NO!

I would not lose; they would not take me and taste victory. If anything, this would end in a draw. Both sides may be killed, but I refuse to accept defeat.

I prepared a pulsing form of energy in my jaws and lifted my head to aim. My head pounded; my vision flickered; my eyes couldn't focus. I managed to find the window in which the humans were sitting and unleashed my attack.

I only had time to see it slice the machine in half, and then everything went still and black.

When my eyes flickered open, I didn't recognize where I was at first. Then I looked down from where I was floating and saw the charred ground, the broken human machine sliced in two halves, and the bodies of the human farmer and Grumpig.

There were two things, however, that I found disturbing.

Firstly, I was floating. Not flying. Floating. And I wasn't in control of it. If I tried to move left or right or anywhere, whatever force that allowed me to float wouldn't respond.

Secondly, there was an outline on the ground that looked like my body. If that was my body, I wasn't in it.

"I hope you are pleased with yourself."

I craned my head around. Behind me was a fiery bird of several colors.

"I am Ho-Oh," it told me.

My eyes narrowed. Its tone suggested that it was one of power that could challenge my own.

It nodded towards the ground. "You are dying."

This shocked me. I had seen it as a definite possibility in attacking the machine, but the news still left me tongue-tied.

"The humans in the machine wanted to capture you—they knew that you visited that farm often and were lying in wait for you. When you destroyed the machine they lost control, and the overload was too much for you to handle."

I was barely listening. Only the word "defeated, defeated, defeated" were able to pierce my mind.

The bird studied me and sighed. "There is only one of you, Rayquaza. You are lord of the skies. You are the very embodiment of the skies."

My lip curled. It's tone suggested that it believed it was equal to me. I didn't like that.

Ho-Oh was examining the remains of the battle below sadly. "I was gifted at the beginning of time with the ability to resurrect the dead. I rarely use that gift. It must be used sparingly and only when needed desperately. I suppose that this would be a time that I need to."

I glared at the bird and lifted my head higher. "I don't need any charity," I growled. I would not be dependent upon this bird. "I refuse to be in debt to you."

"Would you rather die knowing you were killed by humans?"

I snapped my mouth shut. Being killed at all was such an immensely horrifying thing. It said that even after all of my years of survival and experience, I was still inferior to those that had only lived and learned a mere fraction of what I have.

"The problem," Ho-Oh mused, "is that if I don't bring you back, who knows what would happen? If chaos ensues, there won't be an entity powerful enough to stop it."

I waited.

"But," Ho-Oh continued, "if I do bring you back, chaos will ensue because you will be the cause of it."

"Pardon?" I snarled. I didn't like that I had to be reincarnated by this lesser power. But now what was it saying??

"You've become corrupt with your power, Rayquaza," Ho-oh said seriously. "You don't bring stability or balance when it is needed any longer like you've done for millennia; you either destroy it or choose to ignore others that are destroying it. You take pleasure in destruction because in causing it you use your power. You enjoy marveling your strength."

"I don't understand," I growled. I understood perfectly, but I refused to believe it. This bird was crazy, I decided.

"Let's take a look at all the lives you've taken." The air shimmered behind Ho-Oh; it glided out of the way. In that area of the air, different scenes came into view. A newlywed couple drowning on a sinking ship, trapped in their flooded room because of a hole blasted in the the wall of the ship. At first I didn't remember that particular instance, but it came to me after a bit. I had been flying over the ocean, spotted the human cruise ship, and blasted a few holes in it before being on my merry way. "What was the reason behind this attack?"

I squinted, trying to remember my motives. "I can't remember."

"Can't remember, or didn't have one in the first place?" Ho-Oh said darkly. "Everyone on that ship drowned that day. The holes you blasted made the ship sink in minutes. Hundreds of lost lives for no apparent reason other than the fact that you were bored." The air shimmered again. A burning city; flaming buildings crumbling like dust; frantic people aflame. "And this?"

It continued on and on like that. A scene of destruction that I had created, followed by me confessing that I hadn't done it for any particular reason. Cars wrecked, banged, and dented beyond recognition from me throwing them down the street, a young boy not yet six years old cowering in a corner watching as his parents were torn to shreds, hikers on mountains thrown to their deaths as I banged on the wall of the mountain; tsunamis, volcanoes, and earthquakes, all triggered by my power; the faces of those that had been starved of food and water when I made the weather too hot for crops and those that had been drowned when I made the rain pour. These were only a few of the hundreds Ho-Oh forced me to look at, and hundreds of times I repeated my answer: "I can't remember . . . I can't remember."

Finally the images stopped and Ho-Oh tilted its head, scowling. "Do you not care?"

"NO!" I screamed. I opened my mouth to fire an attack at the bird, but nothing came out. I roared in frustration.

Ho-Oh sighed as I continued to roar and scream like a petulant child. "Your soul is corrupted far worse than I originally thought."

"Are you going to bring me back or not?" I screamed.

"Yes. I am." Ho-Oh looked at me, a gleam forming in its eye that immediately made me shut my mouth. "But first we must eliminate the sources of your corruption. You feel no emotion." It got a ponderous look on its face. "Many legendaries have limited emotions because they separate themselves from most of the world. But you, Rayquaza, have isolated yourself in the sky for millions of years, and have developed a cold, selfish, egotistic and power-hungry heart as a result."

Ho-Oh seemed to smile, although this was only an impression because of its beak. It made me wary. "You, Rayquaza, must become humble."

"How do you intend to do that?" I demanded, more out of confusion and surprise than anything, but I was jerked backwards, being dragged by an unseen force back to earth. I extended my neck and snapped at the bird's feathers, but Ho-Oh disappeared. Looking down, I saw my body on the ground evaporate and be replaced with a much smaller form. I was sucked into it.

Shaking my head, I grumbled to myself. It took several moments for my head to stop spinning and for me to be able to more clearly see my surroundings. Ho-Oh was a fool. What did it think bringing me back would do? Was it really stupid enough to believe that if I was in debt to it, I would become "humble"? I snorted with amusement. Well, if that was the case, Ho-Oh would be sorely disappointed.

I stood up.

Stood?

I had time only to think that thought before I fell over. I screamed, but the scream was completely devoid of the terrible rage it used to be filled with. It sounded . . . and I loathe to say this, but it sounded . . . cute.

There was a pond three feet away. I hauled myself over to it with my two chubby, short forelegs to get a look at myself: a miniscule blue dragon with a silver, ridged head, and a yellow underbelly.

Looking back at me out of the pond, was a Bagon.