A/N: Hey folks its me, Sharkness, with a new story! :D this is my first oneshot, so a review on how I've done would be greatly appreciated!

Between the events of B/W and B2/W2, Team Plasma split into two factions. But I was wondering, what caused this fragmentation? What happened to three of the Seven Sages? So I created this, the first ever story on here starring the Sages! I apologise if you are offended by me stereotyping accents, but I wanted to make each Sage different and so wrote them naturalistically, with the accent of the language their name comes from (i.e. Rood- Dutch). I hope that's okay! :)

Anyway, on with the show...

Nimbasa City is the largest, most populated city in Unova and indeed the world, a sprawling, gargantuan metropolis where the hustle and bustle of the city, the heart of entertainment and culture in the region, never fails to blow away visitors. Everybody remembers the first time they stepped into the cosmopolitan wonderland, and were overwhelmed by the size and vibrance. It is a truly exciting place to be.

In stark contrast to that though, Route 16, heading east out of the city towards the Marvelous Bridge, is reserved, quiet, an almost hush to the place. Travellers to and from Nimbasa stop on the Route to rest, to recharge their batteries after an energetic, frenetic day in the city that never sleeps. Tall wooden fences line the Route, with trees and grass growing at intervals, and the sounds of bird and bug Pokemon can be heard from the treeline, a serenade to a moment's tranquility.

North of the Route lies somewhere even quieter, somewhere even the birdsong fails to penetrate, somewhere where utter calmness and peace envelopes the trees and the long grass. This is the Lostlorn Forest, where silence blankets and shrouds everything; this is the Lostlorn Forest where you can hear the dripping of dew from the leaves of mighty oaks halfway across the Forest. The stillness of the place is eerie and awe-inspiring at the same time, as if the Forest is frozen in time, a picturesque, beautiful moment captured forever. and the few visitors who dare walk its path and disturb the stillness say it is a lonely, humbling place.

One of those visitors arrived in the Forest not paying attention to the quiet, not stunned by the raw natural splendour before him. If anything, he added to the silence- he walked with an exaggerated, lengthy, careful gait, placing each foot down steadily, as if trying to tread lightly and not cause any noise. His eyes darted about, a combination of nervousness and suspicion, checking the Forest to see if anyone was watching him, and he was trying very hard to keep as much as possible to the shadows of the trees, trying not to draw attention to himself. He'd been doing that for a while now...

Dieter Bronius couldn't exactly remember how long it was he'd been on the run, hiding from the International Police. Everything he'd worked for as a Sage of Team Plasma had been for nothing- first Ghetsis Harmonia had betrayed him and the others by taking over from King N, and then Ghetsis himself was defeated and arrested, leaving the Police to start a region-wide manhunt for the remaining members of the Seven Sages. As one of them, Bronius felt shocked by Ghetsis' betrayal and angered by the fact Ghetsis was now trying to claim the Sages were supporting him in his takeover- because of Ghetsis, his life had been hell, and he'd had to hide underground in Unova's Chargestone Cave, waiting for the day he could come up without worry.

Having reached a clearing in the Forest, Bronius paused, as there was a loud rustle of grass. A Backpacker traipsed out of it, his feet crunching loudly as he strode off towards the forest exit, not seeing Bronius at all.

Bronius heaved a sigh of relief, and stopped fiddling with the ceremonial robes of the Sages, the robes he'd worn ever since it started. He readjusted his ceremonial hat atop his head, and sat down on a log, taking care not to make too much noise.

"Vhere are they?" he muttered to himself in a strong German accent, his tone precise and clipped, his moustache twitching; much like Bronius' accent, it was a stereotypical German affair, a large, Bavarian-style moustache.

Bronius fidgeted, agitated, as time passed slowly in the stillest place in Unova. He'd chosen here for a number of reasons; off the beaten track, and very quiet, nobody would come here under any circumstance. There was also only one resident in the Forest, a lady who lived in a mobile trailer all by herself, and since she never spoke to anyone, never travelled, living a life of solitude in the Forest, Bronius reasoned that they might not actually be caught by anybody.

'They' were his companions, his allies, his fellow Sages. He'd sent word out to every one of them, except one, whose news would need passing on to the others when they arrived. Now he hoped they would all make it here safely, without running into that blasted Detective Looker. He was a persistent man...

"Boo!"

The voice came suddenly like a whip crack from behind Bronius, and the German leapt in shock, before wheeling angrily. "Gorm!"

"Hehe, got ye good that time, laddie," the newcomer said, his Scottish accent clear. He wore the same clothes as Bronius, and had a very angular white moustache set against pale white skin that almost glowed. This was Sage Alistair Gorm. "Good tae see ye, at last!"

"Und du, meinen Freund," Bronius said, smiling, having got over his minor fright/cardiac arrest, shaking Gorm's hand. "It feels sehr gut, to have company after so long."

"Tell me about it," Gorm replied, nodding. "Ai didnae think Ghetsis would do what he did, and ai didnae believe when ai joined that ai'd be hiding in the Dreamyard from the Police."

"The Dreamyard?" Bronius said, arching an eyebrow. "At least you hid in a building! I had the Chargestone Cave, and the electricity played havoc vith me."

"Could be worshe, Broniush," came a dark voice heavily slurred in a Dutch accent. "I had nowhere to go- dere was no place I could hide. I had to run, every day."

Bronius turned. "Sage Rood, you are here!" But vhere did you go, how did you hide from Looker?"

Sage Willem Rood shrugged. "Heh, I found a way. Nuvema Town ish one of the quietisht in Unova, sho I hid on Route 18, out of the way. Dere were a couple of Rangersh on de Route, but dey didn't recognishe me." He paused. "I am sorry I'm late..."

"Tisnae a problem," Gorm said happily, shaking Rood's hand. "Old Bronius hear did the usual German thing and turned up efficiently and punctually on time." As Rood laughed at the jibe, Gorm went on. "Anyway, Zinzolin and Ryoku arenae here yet."

"I am," came a very soft voice behind Rood, the slightest trace of an Asian accent in it. Another old man stepped out from behind Rood, a nervous smile on his face. While Rood had impressive facial hair, this old man rivalled him, but where Rood's was blonde, the Japanese man's was light silvery grey, from stress more than anything else.

"Shage Ryoku came here with me," Rood said, as Ichiri Ryoku nodded warmly to Gorm and Bronius. "We met on de Marveloush Bridge. Did you know, he hid out in de Relic Castle, and nearly captured de powerful Volcarona that livesh in it?"

"Really?" Gorm said, impressed; he'd heard of the power of the Volcarona.

Ryoku nodded. "It very hard, and I lost two my Pokemon before give up," he said; Ryoku had the weakest accent of the Sages, but his spoken English was very drawn out, and he struggled with it. "You call us here?" he asked Bronius.

"Nein, Rood did," the German Sage said.

Rood nodded. "Ja, we need a meeting of all the Shages, to decide on the future of Team Plashma. It ish vital."

"Well zen, shall we get started, instead of zis idle chit-chat?"

Everyone turned to face the source of the French-accented question. The newcomer was sour of face, with the darkest, most suspicious looking eyes anyone had ever seen. His moustache was closely cropped and clipped, and he wore a purple scarf around his neck, a contrast to the ceremonial robes he wore. There was something about this man that unnerved the others, that made them a little anxious to be around him, but they tolerated him- he was Ghetsis' favourite.

"Ah, Francois Zinzolin!" Bronius said, trying to sound warm and kind, striding over and offering a handshake to the Frenchman. "Ve vere just discussing vhere we hid from Looker, that's all."

Sage Zinzolin quickly shook his hand, yawning. "Bah, 'iding was easy. I stayed in ze Cold Storage, ze building I own in Driftveil. Looker wouldn't look for me in a building I 'ad already been seen in."

"Hoots mon, the Cold Storage?" Gorm cried, incredulous. "How can ye take the chill? Ai'm Scottish, ai'm used tae the cold, ai'm used to shite weather and freezing conditions, but even ai cannae stomach the Cold Storage! Tis a death trap!"

Zinzolin gave an indifferent, uncaring, bored Gallic shrug. "I do not see ze problem wiz it." He paused to light a cigarette, and blew a smoke ring off towards the trees, the huff the loudest thing in the Forest. "Anyway, shall we? I believe zis is a meeting..."

"Ja, indeed," Bronius agreed, sitting back down on the log. "Let's get started, meine Freunden."

"Ha, having a meeting around a log," Gorm muttered darkly. "The Sages have reached an all time low..." There was the faintest of smiles on Zinzolin's face as Gorm said this, but it faded quickly, swallowed by the grouchy, moody persona of the Frenchman.

"Wait!" Ryoku suddenly cried. "Where Giallo? He need be here!"

"Oh?" Zinzolin arched an eyebrow. "Zey 'ave not told you? What a shame. Even I knew, and I 'id myself away from you all."

"Know what?" Ryoku was looking frantic, and confused, as was Gorm, and Bronius too.

Rood sighed. "Dat ish part of why I called dis meeting. Sage Alessandro Giallo... was arrested on Route 14 a week ago."

There was a stunned silence in the clearing, to add to the natural hush of the forest.

"Mein Gott," Bronius breathed. "Another one down..."

"Then they were five," Ryoku said sadly.

"And that doesnae flow," Gorm moaned. "Ai could understand the Six Sages perhaps, but the Five Sages? It grates on my tongue!"

"It ish not a good name, I'll give you dat," Rood agreed.

Zinzolin rolled his eyes. "Oh, mon Dieu. One of us gets arrested and we start complaining about ze name we take, razzer zan actually doing anyzing..."

Bronius glared at Zinzolin, and there was a pause in conversation.

"He was good man," Ryoku said timidly. "Good Sage, good fighter, good person. We will miss him. Ghetsis set him up. He no deserve this..."

"Pah!" Zinzolin interrupted. "It serves ze fool right for letting 'is guard down! What kind of Sage casually walks along a main Route out in ze open when Looker and 'is cronies could attack at any moment?"

"He told me he vas headed to Lacunosa Town, to hide in the Giant Chasm," Bronius said pointedly. "That is a sehr gut hiding place..."

"And he could have encountered de Legendary Pokemon Kyurem if he'd have gotten dere," Rood added.

Zinzolin considered this. "Meh, I suppose you are right. Perhaps it was a good idea... certainly if 'e 'ad captured Kyurem. Zat would have been a good zing to present to our lord Ghetsis when we break 'im out of prison and reunite Team Plasma under 'im, non?"

There was an awkward pause.

"Umm, yesh..." Rood said, slowly. "Ghetshish... Of courshe..."

Zinzolin stopped, frowning, narrowing his eyes at Rood, who fidgeted nervously when he met the Frenchman's gaze. "Is zere a problem, mon ami?"

"Well... now ye mention it, the subject of Ghetsis is the main reason we want this meeting," Gorm said.

Ryoku looked puzzled. "Yes? Go on..."

"Ja, I'm listening," Bronius said, motioning for Rood to continue.

Rood cleared his throat. "Well, I wash looking back on what we've done ash Shages, and it shickens me. We've manipulated people, forced people into actsh they should not be made to do, been overly violent, shtolen objectsh and Pokemon and generally hurt a lot of people."

"Tisnae a good image we paint of ourselves, is it?" Gorm asked grimly. "Our King strives for harmony, yet we cause conflict and strife."

"Bah!" Zinzolin scoffed. "Our 'King' is a front, a mere puppet! Ghetsis is ze real master, and under him we came so close to victory! We nearly took over Unova, and our master plan to release every Pokemon from ze PC network was ready and in place..."

"But ve did not succeed," Bronius reasoned. "Ve appeared to Unova as tyrants and criminals, and ve vere attacked, ousted. Is that vhat ve vant?"

"Non," Zinzolin said firmly. "We want Unova. And it does not matter 'ow we are seen; what matters is zat we succeed, and zat Ghetsis becomes leader of us again, ruler of ze region."

"Loshe your fixation with Ghetshish!" Rood suddenly snapped, snarling at the Frenchman. "He wash a coward, a liar, a traitor, a greedy tyrant, and he betrayed everyone of ush here in purshuit of hish own glory, including you! He wash no leader- he wash evil."

Zinzolin rolled his eyes. "Oui? And so are we. We are evil; we want to take over ze region. I don't zink zat classes us as ze good guys..."

Rood ignored Zinzolin's sarcasm. "What we did in the pasht wash dishgushting, horrible, wicked. It shamesh me to shay I wash once a member of a Team Plashma who committed shuch awful atrocities.."

"Me too," Ryoku piped up, nodding in agreement.

"Once a member?" Zinzolin asked. "What do you mean?"

"He means its time for change," Gorm said. "Nae more villainy, nae more greed, nae more anger and violence."

"We need to atone for our shins," Rood declared, standing up at the end of the log, every single person turning to watch him. "We need to make a vow, dat we will redeem ourshelves, dat we will change for de better in de eyesh of Unova, dat we will make amendsh for our dreadful actsh."

"What are you talking about?" Zinzolin cried, rising up loudly and disturbing the silence of the Forest. "Zis is ludicrous!" But his outrage was ignored by the others.

"Interesting. How do you plan to do this?" Bronius asked, leaning forward, interested.

Rood smiled, glad he'd piqued his fellow Sages' curiosity. "Shtep one: we renounce Ghetshish ash our leader, and redeclare our loyaltiesh to N, once again. We cut all of our tiesh to de old Plashma, fire any Gruntsh who shtill believe in Ghetshish'sh policiesh, and gather all doshe shtill loyal to N for our new Team Plashma."

"Sound easy," Ryoku nodded. "Then..."

"Shtep 2: we find ourshelves a bashe. De Cashtle ish not a symbol of peace and harmony, it'sh a shymbol of greed and malice. We move out from dere, after destroying all of de equipment from de last Team Plashma'sh plansh, and move into one of de old shafehoushesh, perhapsh de one in Driftveil, or de one in Cashtelia."

"Driftveil is possibly a better idea," Bronius interrupted. "The Castelia hideout is Ghetsis' idea of a joke, being right next door to a Gym, and it'd be better to sever every tie vith Ghetsis. Plus, vhen ve had the hideout, the Gym Leader and Nuvema Trainers found it very easily."

"Okay, so we shouldnae use the hideout in Castelia," Gorm said. "We shall go tae Driftveil and set up our base there. But what do we do afterwards? How do we show tae Unova that we've changed, that we've become a different Plasma? How do we redeem ourselves?"

"I have a plan," Rood answered. "Dere are Pokemon all over Unova who have been abushed," at this point he thought to himself 'mostly by us', "or mishtreated, or abandoned, or been shubjected to horrible violence. And yet dere ish no charity to help dem, nobody who will nurshe dem back to health, nobody who will help dem in deir darkesht hour."

"So this where we come in?" Ryoku asked, eagerly.

"Precishely! We take doshe Pokemon in, care for dem, nurture dem, raishe dem back to full health, den we find dem a kind, caring Trainer who will look after dem for de resht of deir livesh. Don't you shee? We can redeem ourshelves in Unova'sh eyesh, do shomething right for de world, improve de livesh of people and Pokemon and bring about harmony in de region. We can do shomething right!"

"Aye!" Gorm said, rising to stand beside Rood. "Let's show the world we are not evil! Let's show them how we will fight for forgiveness and redemption! Let's make a difference for people and Pokemon, for our King, for the Sages, for Team Plasma, for the further of Unova!"

This was met by a cheer from Ryoku, who started applauding loudly from the log, scaring a Pidove in the trees from the sudden loud noise. Bronius smiled warmly, and started to rise up to join them. Maybe the Sages could make a difference...

"Ah, piss off! What kind of plan do you call zat? What kind of traitors are you people?"

Gorm, Rood, Ryoku and Bronius wheeled to face the angry Sage Zinzolin, who had jumped away from them and stood looking daggers at them, radiating rage and fury.

"Z-zinzolin?" Ryoku stuttered, scared by the raw hatred emanating from the Frenchman.

Zinzolin dropped his cigarette and crushed it beneath the heel of his boot, grinding it aggressively into the earth. "Bah! You are not Team Plasma; you are nozzing but dirt, filz, cowardly wretched traitors who are abandoning zeir leader when 'e needs zem most!"

"How dare you!" Bronius bristled. "Ghetsis is no leader of mine! He is arrogant, selfish, pompous, greedy and cruel, and has no moral values! I follow N, I follow harmony, not the dream of tyranny Ghetsis vishes to impose on Unova!"

"Ghetsis will rule!" Zinzolin yelled, scaring a lot of wild Pokemon in the sudden burst of noise. "Civilisation in Unova will crumble as Ghetsis ruins the land, and he will reign supreme! You will not stop him!"

"Tisnae gonna happen, laddie!" Gorm roared. "Ghetsis will not win! He must be feeding ye Dream Mist, because everything that he has promised you is an illusion, a false hope, a dream! The dreams we realise with our own abilities are the real dreams, and that is what our dream is! We will use everything we have to apologise tae Unova!"

"I vill Ghetsis as long as I live," Bronius said determinedly, fiercely. "He vill not vin. Team Plasma vill do things right, for the people of Unova."

"Pah! Ze people of Unova BELONG to Ghetsis! And I am 100% loyal to 'im- I shall not leave 'im like a spineless coward when ze Police threaten me! When zings aren't going right, I stand by Ghetsis, and I will fight for when zings do go right, for when Plasma succeeds!"

"Then you no friend of us," Ryoku said menacingly. "Leave. Now."

Zinzolin grinned like a Sharpedo, a malevolent, malicious grin, as a bush rustled behind him. "Oh? Is zat a challenge, mon ami? Do you want a battle?"

"If it'sh what it takesh to shecure the shafety and harmony of the region, sho be it!" Rood snarled, reaching for a Pokeball on his belt.

Zinzolin's grin grew wider. "In zat case, you 'ave already lost. Weavile!"

He hadn't even drawn a Pokeball. The bushes behind him suddenly erupted, a flock of Pidove flapping frantically up into the sky as the black blur that disturbed them raced out of the long grass towards the other Sages.

"Wea VILE!" The Pokemon yelled, wearing a grin as wicked and as large as its master, throwing its long claws out as it charged towards the other Sages.

"Kuso!" Ryoku swore in his native Japanese, as the wildly laughing Weavile closed in on him. One of the Sage's hands flew to his belt, attempting to grab a Pokeball to release a Pokemon that would ward off the marauding Weavile and protect him from Zinzolin, the other hand flying up in front of his face and eyes.

For Ryoku though it was a case of too little, too late. Weavile cried out triumphantly, leaping mid-sprint into the air, arm outstretched, to bury its claws past Ryoku's flailing arm into his eyes. As Ryoku screamed in pain, Zinzolin's Pokemon cackled in joy, before pulling its bloody claws from Ryoku's eyes to rapidly slice through the Sage's throat and windpipe.

As Weavile backflipped off the toppling body of the dead Ryoku, wiping some of the blood from its claws, Rood looked at Zinzolin in horror. "You are a monshter!"

Zinzolin gave that uncaring, indifferent, Gallic shrug again. "Perhaps. But I am a loyal member of Team Plasma. And you will not stand in our way as we crush this region. Weavile!"

Zinzolin's Pokemon and Sage Rood both moved quickly this time, much faster to react than before. Weavile's charge towards the Sages brought it to Sage Bronius, but as it jumped into the air again Rood finally got his Pokeball out and open.

Weavile and Bronius scuffled, Bronius frantically trying to ward the Sharp Claw Pokemon away from him, Weavile's claws scratching into his arms as it swiped at him. Finally though Zinzolin's Pokemon overcame him, slipping out of the Sage's grasp to lunge forwards with both sets of claws outstretched, piercing through Bronius' ribcage and stabbing into him...

"No!" Rood yelled, and Weavile turned, grinning, to be hit by a Fire Fang from Rood's Herdier, sent out of its Pokeball just too late to stop Weavile's claws from hurting Bronius. Weavile was hit hard by the attack though, skidding across the Forest floor to its master's feet, hissing and baring its fangs as a burn from the Fire Fang set in.

"Enough," Zinzolin said to his Pokemon, clicking the button on a Pokeball on his belt to return Weavile. "You've done your job."

"Ye... Ye are evil, Zinzolin," Gorm muttered, shaking in rage, not believing that somebody he'd once trusted would kill two of his friends without batting an eyelid.

Zinzolin smiled sinisterly, and shed his ceremonial Sage robes, letting them slide to the Forest floor- beneath them, a purple, thick robe with a large collar billowed, with the Team Plasma logo set on a black bit on the front. Zinzolin pulled on black gloves, and from the recesses of his new robe he pulled a tall purple hat, which he put on instead of his old ceremonial one. "Zere... I am no longer one of you."

"No," Rood agreed. "You're horrible."

Zinzolin smirked. "Do not cross me again, Rood. I 'ave powerful allies, Ghetsis included, and I will destroy you and your traitorous fragment of Team Plasma. Ghetsis' Plasma will rule, and Unova will be ours." He bowed. "Good day, mes amis."

As Zinzolin strode off towards the Forest exit, Gorm, crouched on the floor cradling Bronius, turned to Rood. "Are we gonna go after him? Stop him?"

"No," Rood said mournfully. "We can't. He hash made hish decishion, and he hash outlined what he will do." He shuddered. "We have made ourshelves a powerful enemy indeed."

Bronius moaned from Gorm's arms. "Promise... Promise me he vill... not win, Rood, Gorm."

"He will," Gorm said sadly- normally the optimist, the fire had gone out in Gorm's eyes. "We cannae defeat him, and Ghetsis, and the Triad, and Looker. Out dream was just an illusion..."

"No!" Rood said, turning wildly. "We never give in! At timesh like theshe, thoshe whoshe heartsh weaken, thoshe whoshe determination faltersh, can accomplish nothing! To shave and to protect Unova, we will fight!"

Bronius smiled feebly. "Gut, mein Freund... Redeem yourselves, und Team Plasma. Show Unova what we... really... are..."

Gorm wiped away a tear in the corner of his eye as the light in Bronius' eyes faded, the old German Sage slowly drawing out his last breath before his eyes flickered shut and he lay in mortal peace beside Ryoku. "And now there are two of us..."

"I'm not giving in," Rood declared, rising slowly, drawing in a deep breath in sorrow and regret that his friends had passed away. But there was a fire in his eyes, a fire unlike anything Gorm had ever seen before, blazing in hatred at Zinzolin, wanting to win. "We will become reshpected in Unova, not hated. And we will take Zinzolin and Ghetshish down!"

"Aye!" Gorm said, rising to stand beside him. "We bury our friends, and always remember their murders. We do this for them!"

Gorm's defiant shout echoed throughout the Lostlorn Forest, piercing through the silence. For as his yell cut through the timeless peace, it signified the dawn of a new era, a new chapter in Unova's history. Now, Team Plasma was divided, by aims, by leaders and by methods, and the battle between both factions, the semi-war that would follow, would shape the region forever...

A/N: How was it? I hope you liked it! :D

Thanks for reading! A review is always appreciated, and until next time, adios amigos!

Sharkness