Operation Resurrect amonniad series seven, a digimon/pokemon fanfic

OPERATION RESURRECT: THE AUTHOR BRIDGE THEORY

(Amonniad Series 7)

by Aristander Telmizzen Esteron

Pauline Ugalde

and Alexander Alae Amon

Published by Athenian Academy Books Inc.

1023 Rictron St.,

Pallet Town CA, 12345

You may do whatever you wish with this book and its prequels, for they are all in the public domain.

To Pauline,

For making this, all of us, possible.

To Aristander and Alexander,

For their support and their dedication to finding their roots.

To my men, dead, alive, or missing in action,

Who are all main characters in my saga.

"Toil and risk are the price of glory, but it is a lovely thing to live with courage and die leaving an everlasting fame."

-Alexander the Great, also known as Alexander Alae Amon

IMPORTANT PERSONS

The most important or most mentioned persons within this book are listed in order of rank, from lowest to highest for the Hellenic League officers, and from highest to lowest for the members of the United States government.

Pauline Ugalde: Royal Historian's Third-In-Command

Aristander Telmizzen Esteron: Royal Seer, Army Literary Historian, Royal Literary Historian, 2nd Hoplite Battalion Commander

Minondass Electris Ketchum: Army Second-in-Command, Greek Contact, Secondary Macedon Contact, Deputy

Alexander Alae Amon: Hellenic League Commander, world's best pokemon trainer and coordinator, world's most successful military tactician, Greek god of brilliance and pokemon coordination, world conqueror Alexander the Great

Executive Cabinet of the United States

President: Barock Obama

Vice President: Joe Biden

Secretary of State: Hillary Clinton

Secretary of Defense: Bob Gates

2 Weeks Before Day 1: Operation Resurrect

Pentagon, Washington D.C

1:00 p.m Eastern Time

Secretary of Defense Bob Gates stared around the room at his associates. They had locked themselves in this room last week, and they had all sworn then that they would only let themselves out if and when Congress gave their bill to the president to be signed.

Why were these men in this room, you may ask. Well, they were attempting to change the way the United States was being governed. Obama and Clinton had both agreed that the country was in dire straights, even if the worst of the recession was over. Now, everyone who tried to lead them was inept, unintelligent, and corrupt.

They were about to change that. They were going to find someone who could lead them. Very well.

"So we all agree that we must ask NASA to help us and that us and them alone should develop this technology?" he asked.

A thin, dark-haired man at his side nodded. "Mr. Gates, we all know that if any of this leaked out, the Iranians would think it a sign of war. We must let Nasa and us and NASA and us alone take care of this." The man's clear hazel eyes reflected his question into the secretary's with a mirror's acuteness. His eyes were bright and curious and not always willing to be careful. They were not naturally reckless eyes, only enough to be the sign of a careful person who could cause trouble when no one was looking.

"Precisely, Tenner," Mr. Gates replied. He exchanged a satisfied glance with his friend. Vade Tenner, his closest friend and advisor, had fought in the Iraq war not five years earlier. He knew what had actually happened there. He knew what weapons both sides used and what their enemies were willing to do in order to make peace. He was an indispensable member of his team. Without him, nothing would be done.

"Will we give our bill to Congress today then?" another man asked with a Greek accent. "I can not stand around waiting for these quarrelsome politicians to finish the rest of the country's business."

This man, though born and raised on the backstreets of Thebes, was very astute and insightful, and he was able to access places and documents that not even the president could view by himself without suspicion. Antipater Amaplates was his name, and like his namesake from Macedon, he always wanted action. No time to think, improvise as you went along, never take no for an answer. Mr. Gates loved his quick wit, the aggressive way he carried himself, and most of all, his directness and stubborn, almost one-track loyalty, to a plan. That was how he was so reliable. That was how he would keep their secrets.

"Yes," Mr. Gates replied. "Go to the Senate first. We have many supporters there. Once they approve, the House of Representatives will follow soon afterward."

3 Days Before Day 1: Operation Resurrect

Capitol Building, Washington D.C

10:00 a.m Eastern Time

"Aye," the last man said. The votes were tallied. There was much more than a majority in both parts of the legislative branch. In fact, all but twenty-five men and women in the Senate and fifty in the House of Representatives did not approve of the bill. These politicians were conservatives who did not want change, who thought that any information that the government kept away from the people was not worth hiding. They did that themselves though, so the cause for them to support this was so far undiscovered. They thought that this bill was a waste of time, money, men, property, and negotiations. That may have been true, but what the bill would reap would by far outweigh its cons. The only person standing in their way was the president and his signature.

Day 1: Operation Resurrect

Capitol Building, 6:00 p.m Eastern Time

"We shall dedicate NASA's former space program staff and buildings to these developments," president Obama read aloud. "The buildings shall be used for the study of scientific concepts that NASA has had no time to work on in the past. Some of these include time travel, the existence of parallel universes, and studying things like atoms more closely to learn about their composition. If these projects are beneficial enough, their success may spark new industries and they may help existing ones. This will begin a new age of American exploration, not onto the seas or into deep space, but into the annals of history." Congress members clapped loudly. Mr. Gates, Mr. Tenner, and Mr. Amaplates clapped the loudest. They beamed at the president, who motioned cheerfully with one finger. He left the room with many requesting his autograph along the way.

Enjoy this while it lasts, Mr. Gates thought as he watched the country's leader leave. You may be a brilliant leader, but Antipater, Vade, and I will soon know how to find someone who renders all other leaders foolish. We will not carry out the deed, but he will.

4 Months into Operation Resurrect

Time Bender Building, National Aeronautics and Space Administration, Florida

2:00 p.m

Gates looked pleased. "What do you think of these readings, Ema?" he asked the redhead at his side.

"They look normal. The energy measuring systems seem to be in order." she answered shyly. She had a nervous look in her eyes, as if any moment someone was going to scold her for doing something wrong. Ema Kelly was not exactly who you would think an expert in time travel or any of the things Obama had talked about, or at least her past did not suggest that. She had often been punished for breaking rules at school, mostly due to her schoolwork. She had thought herself too smart for her teachers, and no one could convince her that she was the student and that her teachers were supposed to teach her things, not the other way around. That never stuck though, so by the time she had graduated high school, by reading on her own, she had already knew enough to have the equivalent of a four-year college education in physics.

Ema was standing before a long row of screens, each one showing different graphs and pictures. Some graphs showed the composition of the objects in the room by element, others tracked the use, transfer, and behavior of any energy in the room, including in the electronics they were using. Still others tried to detect the presence of any energy, electrical or otherwise, that wasn't coming from any of their electronics and that appeared to have no detectable source. This, Ema and Gates theorized, would be how they could find something. "There is an irregular reading here," Ema said, pointing to one graph. The x-axis showed the time and the y-axis showed the energy levels when compared to those of the computer. The higher up the line was, the stronger the signal was in comparison. "It was here when I came in this morning, but it disappeared while I was at lunch. It came back when I came back. As you know, we have monitors like this stationed in every room. In the lunch room, in fact, I saw this same spike in energy levels when I was in there."

"Could it be a glitch?" Mr. Gates asked. "I told NASA that these monitors had to be perfect. How could they not have accounted for this?" He stopped. "Ema, did any other monitors besides this one and the one in the lunch room detect this?"

She shook her head. "No. But my associates have detected similar irregular rises in energy, but not one as high as this. They are not nearly as frequent too. They appear, stay for a couple minutes, and disappear without returning. This reading, though, always returns."

"Are any of our other sensors overactive, because if one is, then that may be causing the spike in readings."

"I don't think so. All of the monitors are accounted for when determining the baseline level. All of the monitors working normally with no problems for one minute is the benchmark amount. This spike is over 200 times that, and it's been here for hours on end. It can't be mere coincidence that this is happening. I can't find any electronic that is emitting this much power; the average per-minute level for all of the monitors in this building added together is barely detectable, so they can't be the cause."

"Do you think, then, that this was worth it?" Gates asked.

Ema shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe, just maybe, we may have found our proof."

Gates's heart raced. Proof already? How could proof of the existence of parallel universes or some other people come so soon? He did not care about why it was short, but that it had happened. This equipment had been lying in wait at NASA for years, ever since the launch of the Spaceshuttle Challenger, to be exact. NASA had wanted to send these monitors into space along with their James Web telescope, but when Gates and the president had requested them to be used for their project, they had done so without regret. The monitors did not take many materials to make, only much money and time. Now, their lack of time did not matter. He had to tell the others. He had to tell the president. This was what he and his colleagues had been wanting for months, and mow they had that proof.

"This is incredible," Vade Tenner said. "Who knew that such a short time could reap such benefits?"

"I am pleased as well," Mr. Obama said. "You have a very brilliant team then if you were able to get proof of this so soon."

"Our next step is to find the source of this electromagnetic signal. If it is coming from a computer or set of computers, we can try to communicate. Gates, Tenner, yourself, and I will initiate it," Antipater said. "If we have actually found the existence of another universe where we stand, we can ask to see the person in authority. Only after we establish a first alliance can we tell the public of this."

"But won't the public be very alarmed at hearing that we have contacted aliens who live not on another planet, but on _our very planet? Remember what happened when that Mars landing program was said on the radio?" the president questioned. "That state of mass hysteria may happen again. People have suspected that we were hiding something like this for a long time. This will confirm all of their theories. It will be like when the Soviet Union's ideas were spreading throughout the world. Everyone turned on everyone. Everyone may think that their neighbor works for us."

"We will provide proof that these beings are not aliens. On the contrary, if they are on this planet and assuming that they are fully evolved, these beings will be people," Antipater replied. "Once they find this out, people should not be very surprised."

"It is settled then. Contact will be initiated once all who work within Operation Resurrect know of this," Mr. Tenner said.

4 Months into Operation Resurrect

Lawson Middle School, Cupertino, California, Friday

9:00 a.m

Pauline, Nellie, Nakita, and Janis finished running their daily lap. The air was neither warm nor cold, but still pleasant while they wore their shorts and T-shirts, their uniforms for PE. "If we just ran the mile today," Nellie Neu complained, "then why is Mr. Gibbons making us do this afterwards?"

"It's only a cool-down," Nakita Vee said, sighing. "This is something that will help our bodies recover from the effort of running."

"You didn't run the warm-up lap every day this week," Janis Hwong said. "While you were running the mile, you were walking a lot, while Nakita jogged past rubbing it in your face."

"Fine," Nellie grumbled. Ah, typical day. Well, nothing is never truly typical when I'm hanging out with Nellie, Pauline thought. My life isn't very typical in itself.

She was the only blind person at her school, and everybody at Lawson acknowledged it very often. Her vision teacher was impressed with everything she could do, while Pauline thought nothing of it. Their PE teacher Mr. Gibbons boasted that she was the best dribbler in their class.

The bell for going back into the locker rooms sounded. They changed, all four of them very relieved. It was almost the weekend, almost the time to kick back and relax. It wasn't time to kick back and relax just yet.

Pauline went to social studies next. She sat with a sigh. Her social studies class was interesting, but annoying. She felt that her enjoyment of it had been diminished thanks to how it was being taught. That didn't matter right now, though.

The announcements flickered onto the TV. Every day, everybody watched the announcements, which were read aloud by two eighth-graders. "There will be an E-Club meeting-"

The girl speaking was interrupted as the screen flashed with white and black lines. A harsh sound like the sound of rushing water filled the room. This is the worst of the technical difficulties that's happened yet. Did the electricity go down?

It turned out that the electricity had not been cut off. A new voice came from the TV's speakers. "This is a breaking news story here at Kron 4 News! It has just been released that the government has been hiding something from everybody in America, something that could change the way we live, think, and practice religion," Pam the anchorwoman announced. "A statement has been released by the president only seconds earlier. He has filmed his statement and it has been sent to every governor and to every news station in the United States. It has also been posted on YouTube. Now, we bring it to you, straight from our video archives."

The news anchor stopped speaking. An image of the president standing before a desk filled the screen. The room looked like any that could be in the White House: bright windows, some computers on the desk, and a small video camera sitting beside him, pointed at him. It appeared that President Obama had filmed this tape himself. He began. "I have supporters of my presidency, and those who reject it. There is information that people think should be available to the public and those who think that this should be classified. I have information that everybody in the United States should know. Four months ago, the Secretary of Defense Bob Gates proposed a bill to Congress that would allow the facilities used by NASA to be used for other scientific project other than space exploration, especially what Mr. Gates called "the investigation of the very threads that form the tapestry that we live on, in, and around that is the fabric of space-time." It has come to my attention that Mr. Bob Gates actual intention was to try to contact anybody who may be in a parallel universe. These parallel universes are not on far-off planets, but on our very own, unseen by humans and instruments.

Very shortly, Mr. Gates and I shall establish contact with whoever may be living in this parallel universe. They are not aliens: they live on Earth, and are advanced enough to be making computers. They can not be very different from us. There is no reason to fear. We shall all be part of a new age, the Crossing Age, the time that we could say that we discovered something very new about ourselves, that even if we do not find alien beings on other planets, we will never be alone where we call home."

The president's image disappeared. The news reporter came back on the screen. "This is astonishing news! After this break, the president's contact shall be broadcasted live. We will keep you posted as this shocking news story unfolds, right here, on Kron 4."

The room was silent. No one dared move or breathe, let alone speak. Pauline's heart was racing with excitement and fear. What could this mean? Were aliens real after all, or rather, was the theory of parallel universes real?

Something that could change the way we live? Change the way we live so much that the president would go through the pains, or do something so normal as, posting his statement on the Internet? Was it so important that it did not matter if it was confidential or not? That would only happen if the discovery was so momentous that it did not matter if anybody and everybody knew of it.

"Well," Ms. Corcoran said, trying to fill the long silence, "this has never happened before. No president has never been so open about disclosing information. If his news was so urgent and important to the country that he would film it himself, well, then we have to see what he will say next."

At that moment, the school-wide system of speakers turned on. "Attention all students and teachers," the announcer said, "all sixth grade advisory classes, report first to your advisory classes, and then to the quad immediately. Team G seventh grade advisory classes, please report first to your advisory classes, and then to the library and the community room, and all team H advisory classes, please meet on the bleachers on the upper blacktop immediately. All eighth grade advisory classes, please go to your advisory classes, and then to the gym immediately."

Pauline stood up and walked to Mr. Oncay's advisory class. She could barely contain her emotions. Maybe her advisory teacher had something to say about all of this that would shed some light on this astonishing discovery. She sat down as Mr. Oncay began to speak. "Did you guys hear the president's address?"

"Yes!" everybody shouted.

"I have no idea what this is about," the language arts teacher said, "but all I know is, this isn't a hoax. The president wouldn't do this unless he was talking about something so important that it should not be concealed from anyone. Let's go to the gym. We may watch Mr. Obama talk to aliens!"

With this somewhat optimistic comment, Mr. Oncay and his advisory class went to the gym.

Time Bender Building, NASA, Florida

The president set down his video camera. "You can come in," he called. Bob, Vade, Antipater, and ema walked in. "How did it go?" Ema wondered. "Did you kick the hornet's nest?"

"The comments on the Internet are shocked, but not as bad as I thought," the president said. "I was surprised that no one was thinking of driving into the mountains and stockpiling food."

"We are all glad that that didn't happen," Bob Gates said. "That computer is the one that detected the signal. All we have to do is tap into the signal and see where it's coming from. It won't be hard. It may take time though."

He strode up to the computer and began looking for the graph that had detected the spike in power. He stared at it. "It's still here," he said. "Even _now, it's still here. Soon, we won't be the only ones who know you're here." He talked to the graph like it was one of their conspirators, like it could hear him or _ever would hear him. He knew his colleagues would excuse it, for he _was talking to one of their conspirators, even if it was inanimate.

"Oh by the gods!" Antipater pushed past Bob and clicked a button at the bottom of the graph. "Tracing source, please wait." the computer said. "Estimated time left: two hours."

"We can wait two hours," Antipater said sarcastically. "We've already waited four months, no, almost ten years. Why _not two more hours?"

_Beep. The computer suddenly stopped its searching. "Source location," the computer said, "100 meters east of Tracking Room."

Vade frowned. Now, the computer's screen showed a picture of the interior of the building, a grid marking out every room. The place where the computer first lay, the Tracking Room, was the origin, and they were on the x-axis at its farthest eastern point. "How can that be?" he asked. "_We are 100 meters away from the Tracking Room."

"Look where we are, it's that red dot. The source is the blue dot. The blue dot is right on top of us," Ema said. "None of our equipment is causing the energy spike."

"Mr. President," Bob asked, "do you think your video camera is causing this?"

The chief executive shook his head. "I put it away in a vault where its electric signal couldn't be detected, or at least if it was detected, it would look like a tiny rise on that graph."

"Then," Ema said the question that everybody wanted to ask and yet nobody wanted to ask, "whose is it?"

"Mine, of course."

Bob gates spun around the room. Where did that come from? No one had spoken, unless... "Yes. Shocking isn't it? You did not think that someone was listening to you this whole time?" the unseen speaker questioned.

was someone spying on them? Was someone from the Secret Service spying on them? Gates saw that there were no video cameras anywhere, and there was no one standing outside underneath the window. The surrounding land was deserted. Could it be coming from the computer?

Everyone stared. There was a new image on the screen. A man was standing before a laptop, just like them. His, however, was much smaller and thinner, and from what their video chat camera could see, its screen was brighter. The man standing before them was tall, much taller than anyone they had ever seen before. He looked more than a half foot taller than most basketball players. He was not powerfully built, but he had delicate, taut muscles, like those of a runner. He was wearing black jeans and a long, black cloak that went down to his ankles. There was a black belt clasped about his waist that looked like it was gilded in places. Like the rest of his body, his face was fine, the only thick-set part being the shelf of bone that was the bottom of his forehead above his eyes.

His eyes. What the hell am I looking at? Gates thought. He was staring into intense, burning, bright, fiery, blue-black eyes. He felt a hot, painful tingling crawl down his neck and his spine, as if he were looking at fire too closely. If I feel like this through a video chat link, then if I was there in person, I would be burning all over. _This is who we have found?

"Mr. President, you may want to take care of this," Gates whispered. The man tilted his head a little to the left, listening with his ears and his eyes. He stepped forward. "Who are you?" he asked him. He was neither benevolent or hostile, only seeking. His accent was like Antipater's except stronger. When he asked this simple question, it was like he was cutting a channel into their minds with the sound of his voice.

Barock Obama met the man's piercing gaze. "I am Barock Obama, the President of the United States of America. They," he pointed at Bob, Vade, Antipater, and Ema, "are my Secretary of Defense Bob Gates, and Vade Tenner, Antipater Amaplates, and Ema Kelly are his advisors. We have initiated contact as part of a project called the Space Time Investigation Bureau. We, the people of the United States, wish to make an alliance with your people. Please, introduce yourself."

The man's face lightened quickly. "Well," he began, "I'm the leader of an organization called the Hellenic League, an organization that wishes to preserve ancient Greek culture. Our members are scholars, historians, and soldiers. Everybody gets professional military training in Macedonian arms as well as modern weapons."

"Macedonian weapons?" Bob repeated. "Aren't those very archaic compared to what we have today?"

"Yes, yes they are. However, there are ways to make them effective in today's world. Plus, everybody is trained to use their own kind of arms as well as everybody else's, in case we need more troops of one kind than already exist."

"So your society is heavily reliant on military prowess, like Sparta?" Antipater asked.

"You could say so, except our way of life isn't nearly as strict. Our members live all around the world, and we have a lot of locals giving us information about where they live in case we have to go there."

"Your world is like ours then," Ema said, "except for the Hellenic League."

"Yeah. But-" "Sire!" a voice called. "The squires are..." the voice stopped. "What are you doing?"

"Minondass," the man said, "I'm talking to someone. Someone very important."

A small figure appeared on the man's lap. Bob Gates recognized it: yellow fur, brown stripes on its back, a tail shaped like a lightning bolt. Was it? "Oh," the tall man said, "there are pokemon here. Like him," he pointed at the Pikachu, who cleared his throat. "Pikachu Ketchum," it said, bowing slightly, "Minondass Ketchum to be exact. Second-in-command for the Hellenic League. I heard your conversation, so I know who you all are." Pokemon could talk? Well, it looked and heard like they could talk in this universe. His voice was high, almost shrill, but human.

"I haven't gotten through introductions," the man said a little sharply.

"Fine," Minondass said, sighing. "Do your thing." He jumped onto the desk and sat beside the laptop.

The man cleared his throat. "One thing I haven't told you is my lineage. I am Macedonian, descended from Heracles and Achilles and Zeus."

"Aren't those people mythological?" Antipater wondered.

"They may be mythological to you, but to me and my kin, they are very much alive. Our religion is that of the Greek gods, like Zeus, Apollo, and Athena, called Dionism. We worship them much the same way that Catholics do with their god: in churches using hymns, sacraments like baptism, and sacrifices at every meal."

"Seems a lot easier to follow than most other modern religions," Obama remarked.

"It is actually. People can worship in virtually any way they want as long as they sacrifice at every meal, go to worship every two weeks, and worship all the gods. Oh, and they can worship in any way they want as long as they don't break any laws."

"Sir," Ema said cautiously, "you are getting off topic. You were introducing yourself."

"As Minondass has said," he continued, "I haven't said my name. I am Alexander Alae Amon, commander of the Hellenic League. I am much more commonly known as Alexander the Great."

Lawson Middle School, Cupertino, CA

Pauline sat in stunned silence. What was she hearing? Could the man President Obama was talking to actually be, him? Alexander?

Ever since the beginning of 2010, Pauline had been writing stories that took place in the pokemon world. The date and time there was exactly the same as the actual time and date, and it had the same political, economical, and social problems. The only differences, besides the fact that pokemon were there, was that there was magic, the Greek gods, and technology advanced enough to resurrect the dead, with Hades's consent, of course.

The TV on the gym wall was silent. "How," Antipater broke the silence. "How can _you be Alexander? First of all, he was never in America. Second, even if he did come to America, how could you be here if your tomb hasn't been found? Lastly, if you _are _actually Alexander, then how did you get so tall and learn English so quickly? It usually takes someone five to ten years to do so without taking classes."

"Don't question me like your police do to the arrested, please, but I will answer them. How I got here: after I died, I was sent to Hades to be in Elysium, where the judges of the dead proclaimed that I should be there. I stayed there for 2000 years, until when in late 2008, a group of archaeologists by the names Tom Sellis and Zeki Mysterio found me. In February of 2009, Hades thought that it was time that I came back. So I did.

As for how I learn English, that is still in the process. I learned by buying an English to Greek dictionary, and from experience. Most of the time, though, I forget that I'm talking to people who don't know Greek-" "And I slip back into it," Minondass translated.

"See? I'll probably never stop talking Greek completely. Hades made it so that when I came back, I could read and write English, it {as just that I couldn't speak it. How I got so tall? Magic. The laws of physics are the same here, it's just that we have many ways of bending, if not breaking them."

"If your world is like ours, then all of our country's officials are there too? I exist there?" The president seemed not to be as shocked as Pauline thought.

"You do exist here. All of the bills you've already passed are passed here, except for the fact that you approved an amendment to the Constitution that said that pokemon, like Minondass, have the same rights as trainers." Obama nodded.

"Where are you right now?" Ema asked. "If your world is like ours, your geography should be the same except for the pokemon places."

"Oh, I'm in Florida, not far from Orlando. I'm in one of NASA's buildings. They're going to stop being funded soon, but they're still working on the James Web telescope. We're in different universes, but it looks like I'm in the exact same room as you."

Bob Gates frowned. "How is that possible? Your location could be the same, but the two building's layout can't be exactly the same. Different builders probably made them, and if they were built by the same person, they probably had different ideas of how it should be laid out."

"Actually," said an energetic voice, "their layout is the same."

Everybody, on the TV and in the gym, stared as Alexander appeared beside Bob. He glanced quickly around the room and nodded, almost to himself. "Yeah, they look the same."

Antipater got down on his knees. "Y-you, I c-can't a-a-actually be-believe that you're h-he-here!" he stammered. "A fellow Greek at last," he said in awe.

"Macedonian," Alexander corrected dismissively, "but right."

The president stepped forward and got down on his knees too. "Anything, anything you may need sir, I will be happy to provide. The country will be happy to provide it."

"I appreciate the offer, but aren't you, like, of higher status than me? I mean, you are the president of the country with the most powerful economy in the world, even if it is pretty bad."

"That is actually the case," he admitted, "but I haven't conquered the known world in ten years or figured out how to make so many people follow me. please, I insist."

"Well," Minondass said, "Alexander and I may need transportation and money. We need to get to the airport on a flight to California."

"I am honored to be helping you. You may use Airforce One. There are many people out there who would not hesitate to assassinate you on sight."

"I'm not worthy of that. Besides, only you can really use that without suspicion. I only need enough money for two one-way tickets to San Francisco. I'll figure out a way to get money. I have a credit card and a phone and everything. I only hope that they work here in this universe."

Before Obama could reply, the sound of gunfire filled the air. Everybody ducked down under the desk, except Alexander, who met the bullets head on. He turned and shouted a word in Greek, and a sword of bronze came out of his left arm, replacing his hand. He slashed at the gunman, who barely managed to avoid being beheaded. "Mr. President," the man said. "Are you all right?"

Obama stood and faced the gunman. "I am fine. Alexander," he gestured at the Macedonian, "means no harm."

"He appeared out of nowhere. He was hiding in here. You should have taken my advice and let me and my colleagues come with you. He could be an assassin for all I know."

"I would never kill him!" Alexander shouted in protest. "I'm a Democrat. In fact, I wouldn't ever, no that's not right." he stopped to correct his English. "In fact, I would never lay a finger on him, even if it wasn't weapon-clad and only with his consent!"

"You still need to be questioned. You have entered and are in close contact with the president's person. You could be a Korean soldier or Libyan spy for all we know. After you surrender your, your," he stopped, staring at the blade connected to Alexander's arm, "your weapons, you will come-"

It happened in a split second. The man flew back and hit the door of the opposite room. Several armed Secret Service, CIA, and FBI agents came rushing out, catching their leader. They fired and missed completely since Alexander was already in their midst. He was fighting them with his bare hands. He dispatched one with a sharp kick to the legs and an elbow in the ribs. He, like his leader, flew straight into another man. This triggered a domino effect, and when it was all over, the group lay in a heap of moaning bodies on the floor.

Alexander wiped his hands on his cloak and picked up Minondass. "I had to do that. They were about to put me in custody, even after we agreed on being allies. They should have known better. They were just doing their jobs though, protecting you, so I don't blame them for being suspicious. Now that I think about it, I have enough money for my ticket. Thank you for your generosity. I thought that you wouldn't want to make an alliance with someone from the Iron Age."

"I would have done so anyway," Obama said honestly. "I had to. Where will you go?"

"I'm going to San Francisco, like I said before. I'll be fine."

Alexander turned away. Before anyone could stop him, he jumped out the window. Once Obama, Bob, Vade, Ema, and Antipater saw that he was not injured, he waved and ran off around the building. A couple steps after he began, however, it looked like he disappeared.

Vade leaned toward the tiny video camera on the computer that had been recording the whole scene. "Now you know who we have allied with. Those who are watching and are in San Francisco, you'd better look out for him. I don't think he'll hurt anyone. Besides, he is only one person, even if he is a very distinguished person. He would never hurt our president, so he would never harm a random civilian."

"If you see him, help him, be kind to him," Antipater added. "He is a friend of our country and from what he was saying, I can tell that he is a very strong Patriot. Treat him like you would a fellow citizen who did no harm to you. Though very famous, he wants to be treated like a normal person. Honor that." With final gestures of farewell, the president and his advisors turned off their camera. The TV was black and silent. The eighth graders and every other student and teacher at Lawson Middle School was silent too.

4 Months 3 Days into Operation Resurrect

San Francisco International Airport, San Francisco, California

7:45 a.m

"How does the president deal with this?" Minondass shouted. "How did the security guys keep so few people out of the gate?"

"Only the gods know. I have no idea. Where's our bags?"

"On carousel 2E. It's right there. Oh come on!" Minondass and Alexander shouted in unison. "Stalkers! No wonder Obama has Airforce One!"

Minondass saw that he was ranting to empty space and thought that Alexander had ditched him. He saw his companion walk back with their two bags. "Did you call a cab or do we have to take Bart or Muney? I don't want to get into a fight on any of them."

"We're not taking a cab. We're renting a car. A Handa Civic to be exact. Aria and Aristander and Lisa and da Vinci have it waiting."

Alexander smiled. "How'd they get here?"

"Athena. She's here too by the way along with Ilium and Allin and Ackisan. They brought the Hellenic League's best agents. We'll be find. And here they come now!"

Alexander watched as three women approached with a boy at their heels. Aria Ray Alphis looked like a Median, with dark skin and jet hair, which were completely opposite to her green eyes' cheerful expression. She frowned. "Let me guess: people followed you and one of you shouted "Stalkers!" Aria's commander and his deputy nodded. "Okay then. The taxi guy's in waiting and the rental car's in the parking lot. Whatever you want. Very easy to get the taxi guy, considering the dude we got the car from was also Italian. Maybe Greek. I don't know."

"He said he'd met you," Lisa del Gioconda told Alexander. She made a tsk-tsk sound at a man who was approaching them. "Hey you!" he said as he came near. "I'm not done with you. I have a new Smart Car. Only seats two. Want to come with?"

Lisa whipped her belt off and held it like a whip. "Hey, lay off. I have a Venetian leather belt and I'm not afraid to use it. By the way, my friend can twist your arms together like pretzels, and very soft pretzels by the looks of it. Where do you work out, Curved lines: The Wizard Gym for Men?"

The guy stared first at Lisa, then at Alexander, who stared cooly back. He scampered away. "And that's how you threaten a guy without getting your hands dirty," Lisa said with satisfaction. She brushed a lock of brown hair out of her face casually. A tall blonde stepped to the front. Her blue eyes were keen and introspective, like a seer or oracle should look like. "Sev, you're awfully quiet. What's wrong?" she asked.

The boy, who had been standing behind them during the whole conversation, came forward. He looked like Alexander, except much shorter. "Well," he said, "I may have caused that guy to come here and flirt with you. I was buying us drinks and he came up to me and asked where you were from. I told him you were from Florence and he said that it must be so hard to live with such a beautiful woman and not be old enough to love her."

"Wow," Minondass said. He suddenly became eager. "What happened next?"

"Well," Sevander Alae Amon said, reaching into a pocket for his cell phone, "I have the whole thing on tape." He selected the video and the five of them watched the screen. Sev's image appeared and the man was next to him. He was brawny and had a very badly kempt moustache. "You're lucky that my friend's not here," Sev said confidently, not caring that the man was leaning down to meet him face to face, "he could throw you out that-" he pointed to a nearby window "window and have time to be there to break your nose when you got down."

"I'm going to throw you out the window," the man said, grabbing Sev by his shirt, but Aria came running up to them. "My friend's right!" she cried. She held a knife from her plate in her hand. "I can throw knives mister. I'm not afraid to throw this one."

The man slowly, but obviously regrettably, released Sevander. "And who is this "friend" you keep mentioning? Your boyfriend?"

"No! In fact, he would probably be horrible in a long-term relationship, even with me. He knows when his friends are being threatened by a guy who has a moustache like a hobo, and trust me, you do not want to cross him."

The man sighed. He lumbered away, grumbling about how he could have picked up a very fiery girl. "Nice!" Alexander shouted, clapping Sev on the back. "You should have let Aria and Lisa take care of him though. He could have hurt you."

"I know, but I didn't want to look weak in front of him. I thought that he would have time to get away before Aria and Lisa came back. Let's go," he suddenly said. "As Phineas Flin once said, "we're burning daylight."

The first thing Alexander noticed about their car was that "You were lying about what kind of car we had! This doesn't even look Japanese! It looks too, too..."

"Sleek?" Aria suggested. "And American or James Bond-ish? Yeah. I said that too." She laughed. "This car was specially made to fit all of us in the minimum amount of space while still following United States car standards. Fits nine people and about the same amount of pokemon. Not to mention it's narrow enough to fit into a lot of differently sized parking spaces."

The car was black, with a low roof, like a Soapbox Derby car except with an engine. "Electric," Lisa added, tapping the car's low hood. "Can go more than 200 miles on one charge, even at highway or faster speeds. Bluetooth phone capabilities, radio controls in the front and back, cupholders of course, and a few more surprises."

"Where we going'?" Sev asked.

"We're meeting up with the person who gave us this car. He wants to talk to us."

"I call shotgun!"

"Sire," Minondass laughed, opening the car door for his commander, "of course you get the shotgun seat!"

The drive didn't take long. "Park there." Lisa pointed to a hotel. Antipater, Leonardo, Athena, Odysseus, and Achilles are waiting. They have an, update, about our ally."

Lisa, Aria, and Aristander strode out in front as they entered the lobby. It looked like what Alexander and Minondass would think a secret agent headquarters would be: as unassuming and slightly too ordinary as any lobby could be. It was James Bond elegant, too, somehow. Aria walked up to an elevator at the far end of the room and pressed a button. With a ding, it opened, and everyone crowded inside. They exited at the top floor. Now that I think about it, Alexander thought as he followed the girls, this place looks like a hotel gone office building or a place that Bond would stay at. Mot sure how.

Lisa stopped at the end of the hall near an ice machine. She took a small plastic disc from her pocket. On each side were the letters HL in gold. She inserted it into the dollar bill slot and the machine slid aside to reveal a revolving door. The group stepped inside, and when they emerged, they found themselves in a spy's haven. Laptops were lined up in rows on a long metal table. Bookshelves and filing cabinets covered the walls. A monitor was hung up on the wall, showing a picture of the hallway outside. This wasn't even the best part. Alexander took one glance around the room and exclaimed as he saw each person in turn. "Athena! Odysseus! Achilles! Leonardo! Antipater! Darius! How'd you get here?"

"Same way you did!" Athena stood up and embraced him. "Flight okay?"

"Flight creepy," Minondass said. He told the story about the guy who flirted with Lisa. "Ooh," Athena said with a slight smile. "I would have wanted to see that guy get beaten up, but that would be unethical."

"Ms. Brazion," a man said, clearing his throat, "we have business. You can talk more about this unlucky fellow later."

"Sure Antipater," the goddess sighed, "no fun and games for you." She sat down, pulling out chairs for everyone. Darius stood up and bowed, like one of his suppliants had done. "Sire, did you see me on television?" He nodded. "You said you felt like you knew me. To Hades with that, you _did _know me. Nice!"

Antipater glanced at them, and they began. "Well, as I can see, you got here safely. I asked the president if I could come to San Francisco to see how you fared, and he agreed. What I really want to know is why have you flown here?"

Alexander cupped his chin in one hand and stared at the fellow Greek. "Well, I'm looking for someone. She's, a friend you could say, but we've never met. She's the one who created me. And no it's not Olympias. It's the author of Aristander's stories. I've found out that the world me and my friends come from is only a story, fiction, fantasy, here. She had written the events of my life that have happened so far."

"Tell me more about her."

"For one thing," Athena said, "she's visually impaired. Very smart but not the most responsible. Very passionate for history, pokemon, and many other random things. She began writing in January of 2010, starting with the story _Out _Ketching _Again. This story, when completed, was published in our world, but under Aristander's-" she pointed to the Telmisian, "name instead. This happened with every other story. Anyway, she designed our world so that we could do our own thing when she wasn't writing. Her plot would kind of pause until she got to writing again. During the summer of 2010, she wrote up a theory for how a book's world could be created. Basically it says that whatever you write happens in this world, and if specified, the people in this world can bend, if not break, the laws of physics. In the writer's world, these laws can be completely different or even nonexistent. That's how we were able to teleport here, while breaking the Law of Conservation of Mass."

"How did you guys figure out that you were in a story?" Mr. Amaplates asked Leonardo.

"We didn't know until Alexander began to enter this girl's dreams." Odysseus told Antipater. "He could see that she was writing about what was happening in our world. At times, he was able to communicate with her through her dreams and in other ways. She believes that our world is real and she's trying to find proof of it. She's desperate."

"She believes so strongly that we're real that she even prays to us before tests," Athena said. "She thinks that she bridges our two worlds. She's right. She made our world the way it is, and she feels responsible for everything and everyone that's in it. I don't blame her.

She hasn't told many people about her stories yet. She thinks that they're too weird and controversial. The burden of having to take care of her life and her world is too much for her."

"So," Antipater summed up slowly, "you guys came here to prove her right?"

Alexander nodded. "Actually, _I came here to prove her right. These guys are here to help. She first heard about me in sixth grade, and like flies to honey, she was automatically drawn in. She learned all the stuff she could about me and before you know it, she began writing. She always tried to come to me for advice and always tried to talk to me, to get any sign that I could hear her. She thinks that I truly care for her and could help her in ways normal people could not. And I can. At times when she was distressed, when she was asleep, when her mind was weakest, I entered it and assure her. She would remember this, and these dreams are the few pieces of proof that she has to try to prove that I exist.

I came here to not only make an alliance with you and the president, but to set her mind at rest. She desires to meet me more than anything and she wants to visit our world more than anything. She will get this chance."

"And," Antipater wondered, almost in a whisper, "who is this girl, I may ask?"

"She is Pauline Ugalde. Fourteen. Student of Lawson Middle School. Cupertino."

Lawson Middle School, Monday, 9:15 a.m

"And now," the announcer for that day said, "we bring you more news, broadcasted at 8:30 this morning." The TV went black, and another image of the anchorwoman appeared. "We have more news about the president's alliance. Apparently, Alexander Alae Amon has touched down at San Francisco International Airport barely half an hour ago. He has been seen near Peer 39 with his companion Minondass and two other women. Here is our live reporter Dah Lin with more."

"Thanks Pam," the on site reporter said. "I have talked to a couple people who have said that they have seen Alexander and his accomplices. Here are their reactions." A picture of a short guy with messy curls appeared. "I saw him with Minondass walking down Peer 39. Headed to Lefties. A place with stuff for left-handed people."

"What was your reaction?" Mr. Lin asked.

"I was standing close to them and, oh my god it was strangely awesome. I felt this feeling of command surround the guy, like if I ever had to follow his orders at any time I would do it." Another picture came on the screen, this time of a Persian man, who looked much like Darius, with dark skin and wide, dark brown eyes, except shorter. "I do not know whether it is because I am Persian or related to Darius is why I felt this, but I felt like he was looking into my mind when he looked at me. It was like he recognized me. Can't say how I know."

Mr. Lin came on again. "So far nobody has acted hostile toward Alexander and his company yet. In fact I was able to catch Alexander as he came out of Lefties." A video of Alexander, Minondass, Aria, and Aristander appeared. "So you're awkward at all going around here? I mean you've never been here and it seems that everyone's been noticing you."

"In my world, the city is the same. It's like back home. Except no pokemon, but... you get my point."

"Why are you here?"

"I have some business to take care of. I'm planning to go to Cupertino today. Don't know where yet... well even if I did I can't say. That would be a beacon for," Alexander paused somewhat awkwardly, like he was trying to come up with the right term, "people."

"Anything you have to say to people who are watching?"

"Wait we're filming I didn't know!"

"Why do you think I'm asking the questions?"

"Sorry. Just saying follow the president's advice. I don't know whether police records from my world appear here, but I'm famous, or infamous, if you will, for getting into police chases. Police have a tendency, no, they _do pull a gun or attack me just because I'm, who I am. Please don't do that. I came here peacefully. And besides for what I'm doing I can't afford to be in jail."

"Thank you for your time. And," Mr. Lin said, smiling at the other Hellenic League officials, "I'm sorry that the questions are only for Alexander."

"That's okay," the brown-haired woman said. "He likes the attention. I can tell. We're in a little bit of a hurry."

"Thank you all," Mr. Lin said. The video turned off. "As you can see it looks like Alexander is settling in well. He's as normal as a brilliant military commander can be here. As he said, he'll be headed toward Cupertino and people here in San Francisco as well as Alexander himself beg people there to be courteous. I'm Dah Lin, Kron 4 News."

"We'll keep you posted on this news story as soon as we receive word. We'll be back after the break, right here, on Kron 4." The TV turned back to the announcing girl. "Maybe, since Alexander's headed to Cupertino, he'll come to Lawson," she said. "We can only hope for that. Bye Lawson," the girl and guy said in unison, "have an exciting Monday."

So far, the day was mot very exciting. Nothing interesting had happened ever since the first news story had been released. However, now, people on YouTube were reacting. Some people were thrilled at this opportunity, especially professors, who knew that they could ask Alexander anything about his lifetime, and he would know the answer. The answer would not be corrupted or distorted by time either. Greeks all around the world were rejoicing, for they finally had proof that western civilization had been made thanks so him. Still others were not so excited. They ridiculed him even more, despite the fact that he could hear them. They said that it is rare that the good return, for heros come only once, but wrongdoers will always exist, ko matter what time they are from. These people would brace themselves for what was to come, and they had the right to do so.

10:15 a.m

This time, Pauline was sitting with some of her other friends. These were some of the few guys who didn't try to act cool, even if they were cool. They didn't act numb and somewhat unfeeling too. She was talking to Ian, a classmate of hers in Mr. Oncay's language arts class, when she heard the clanging. That sounds like metal, "Block it Ketchum! Block it!"

"I can't! He's too ah!" There was the sound of something and someone falling over. Someone would only say that if they were talking about swordplay or soccer, she thought. Wait. Those aren't the sounds of people playing soccer. How are there swords here?

Suddenly, something hit her and knocked her against a wall. "What the?" screamed Robert, one of her classmates from science. There was a crack as something hit him too, probably metal too. He fell unconscious. James, who was a new student, rushed in front of him, and he whipped off his belt. Before he could use it, the person who had struck Robert grabbed the belt and swung James around while James was still holding onto the other end, and Pauline heard the swish as the belt swung through the air. How can somebody be that strong? Only people who work out for many hours can do that. When the attacker let go, James crashed into the side of the building next to them.

"Admit defeat!" another random person shouted. "Get the other one Sire!" Ian, who was the only male victim still standing, backed up and swung his backpack off, and he tried to use it like a club and a shield. Like James though, the assailant grabbed the backpack and Ian and spun it around by one of its straps, striking his back and legs with his free hand and his sandals with bronze toe caps instead of steel ones. He fell beside James. "Who said that I couldn't pick a fight on a random school campus?" This guy has an accent. What did he say again?

Pauline's thoughts turned to the TV program and her stories. She had imagined that Alexander's voice was moderately pitched and that he put more stress on his consonants and emphasized his vowels than usual. Wait. Isn't that, "Oh my gods!" she shouted, and she dropped her cane on the ground and knelt. "Please don't kill me Sire! You can do whatever you want to Robert though."

"Who?" the guy asked, very confused. This is like my stories! she thought. "The guy who you hit first." she said simply. He'll figure it out.

"Oh. Sorry about that. Can't be too careful seeing that the Secret Service are kinda, after me."

"Kinda?" Ian groaned and stood up. "You knocked out a whole squad of the president's guards unconscious while the cameras were rolling! Dude? How? Why?"

"Let's just say, that, I've trained myself so that I can do that. Don't know how and don't ask how."

"Who are you? Why are you on campus?" James demanded, running toward them. "You can't be here unless you have permission."

"I, kinda already _do have permission. Besides, most likely even if I had no permission nobody would mind. I'm not here to try to put a garrison in the gym that would be weird and sad."

"Before you say why you're here," Pauline wondered, not knowing why she was asking this man this question at all, seeing that it was absolutely pointless, "_who _are _you?"

He stared at her with a "why do you ask, oh she's probably in shock I'll reassure her" expression. "I'm Alexander Alae Amon, commander of the Hellenic League, a recently made ally of Barock Obama. Alexander the Great."

Pauline was so stunned, happy, and scared that she did the first thing that came into her mind. She prostrated herself and groped around in her pockets for money or some kind of payment. "No need." Alexander helped her up. "Sorry for the... unconsciousness of your friend, I, didn't know, and I've been very on edge lately."

"Robert will be okay. Wait!" James interrupted himself and came to stand beside Pauline. "You are _the _Alexander the Great?"

"Yes! Which one do you think I was: the guy on the $10 bill? He's _dead, _still, _American, not I don't like him, has no title besides his name, first and last, _and, he's from the Caribbean. That's not my point though. Aria," "Hi!" a black-haired woman girl said happily. "Aristander," "Hey! Nice school," a blonde said. "And Minondass," "I am the only pokemon here right now that can talk. For now anyway." "They are here since, well, we know about your stories. You know why we're here?" He didn't give anyone time to answer. "We're here to show you that your stories are true."

Pauline stood there, confused and the slightest bit touched. "But, how will you do that?"

"Come with us and we'll show you." Alexander brushed his hands on his cloak. "I can't say this enough. Sorry about the knocking out thing, uh..."

"Ian and James." the two other guys said together.

"Ian and James. Let's get out of here. I'm hungry and on a schedule, and I seriously don't wonna deal with... people."

"Where we goin'?" Pauline asked.

"Where you wonna go? We've got half a school day on our hands. All your friends will still be taking classes or hanging out for break."

"Well, I do have some friends I want to find. Nellie!" she shouted. "Get over here!"

She came over, looked at Alexander for one second, and stood rooted to the spot. "You're, him! The girl on announcements was right! Nakita Janis get over here the guy's here!"

"What guy?" Nakita asked at first without needing to. "Where we going?" she asked, just like Pauline when she figured out the identity of their guest.

"We're pickit' up people." Aristander said, stepping forward. "Aristander Telmizzen Esteron. Royal Seer and the only person here besides Aria, my Athenian friend, that can pass off as an average person and not draw much attention. Minondass-" she pointed to the Pikachu, "is, not very good at not drawing attention. He always does. Wonna come with?"

"Would people know we were gone?" Janis asked. "Will we have to make up our homework?"

"Where we're going," Alexander said, gesturing to a black sports car in the nearby parking lot, "you won't even have to worry about homework."

St. Joseph, Mountainview California

11:00 a.m

"So Minondass, Aria, Aristander, and I go in first." Pauline finished as Alexander pulled into a parking space. "Why aren't you going in with us?"

"It'd be shocking. I want everyone to be prepared. Plus I want water."

"Okay. Where are we fitting into all of this?" Nellie asked.

"You can come if you want," Aristander told her, "but I don't think it's necessary. How about I call Lisa and Leonardo so they can take you three to San Francisco before us?"

"Sure!"

When Pauline, Aria, Aristander, and Minondass found the right classroom, Pauline knocked on the door. A woman with long brown hair answered it. "What can I help you with?"

"I have to pick up my friend Nika..." Pauline paused since she didn't know the teachers name. "Mrs. Picket," she said. "Come in. It looks like," she said to her class, "that we have visitors. Who are you?"

"I'm Pauline Ugalde, the girls are Aria Alphis and Aristander Esteron, and, the Pikachu's Minondass Ketchum. And yeah, they're from the news reports."

Nika stood up and ran to meet her best friend. "How'd you get here?"

"That's not important. Mrs. Picket," she turned to try to face her as squarely as possible, "you must know about the, other guy, from the news report." Mrs. Picket made a sound of agreement. "He's not here yet, but I'm not lying in any way when I say this, he will be here in one minute. If he doesn't come you can call me a liar. But if he does come, you have to listen to whatever he says."

"I will." she said. "Do you agree?" she asked the class. There were sounds like "Yes," and "Totally," and "I don't know," as the door opened, like Pauline had promised.

The room fell silent. "Am I in the wrong room?" he asked empty air or about twenty five shocked people. "I'm guessing that's a yes." He glanced at Nika, who was as calm as anyone could be meeting the world's most brilliant military commander. "Mrs. Picket," Aristander questioned, "what subject do you teach?"

"History."

"And if this, what is happening, is part of history, and that _he, is, who he is, would you believe him if he were to introduce himself?"

Mrs. Picket hesitated, and then replied "Yes. If what Aristander is saying is right," she asked very slowly, "then you _are, Alexander the Great?"

He nodded and stared cooly at her class, who was watching their teacher's face. She looked calm, like Nika, at first, but her expression suddenly became stunned and awed, and she gasped several times. "This, t-this is an honor. I do not think that my studies to become a history teacher do me justice now. I can't say, how, how this feels at all."

"Most people can't, so you're not the only-" Alexander was cut off when everybody began screaming and pounding desks. Some people shouted that it was the end of the world and "Please don't kill me!" One girl did not react, however. She sat in silence, mouth pursed, staring into space. "Andrea's not screaming." Nika whispered.

"Can you guide me to her seat?"

"Sure." Pauline stepped behind Andrea's chair. "Do you know," she said a little bit too loudly, "who your teacher's freaking out over? Do you know who it is?"

She waited for an answer, and no answer was said. "_He, is Alexander the Great. He is the most brilliant conqueror of all time. He made it possible for Christianity to spread to so many places, possible for it to go out of Judea. He made this school possible. You can at least credit him for that." Andrea still sat, unmoving, stubborn, unwilling to listen or believe. "He's not from here is he?" she finally said smugly. "You're not from here, are you?" She stood up and faced Alexander, who looked annoyed, indignant, and angry. Sparks of electricity danced between his fingers, his temper rose. "Duh! Of course I'm not from here! I'm Macedonian, uh, Northern-Greek. That's all the way in Europe and not only did I make this school founding possible, I spread Greek culture all over the Old World. That's how America knows how democracies work. That's why there are bananas here I brought them back to Europe, and therefore here. Don't know if this is true but I'm the reason why the name Alexander is even in the United States at all!"

"So?"

His mouth worked as if he was trying to find a word that would convey his feelings. Tiny bolts of energy arched out of his fingertips as he clenched his hands into fists. "So?" he growled through his teeth. "My name is known throughout the whole world. You must have heard of me _somewhere. _Anywhere! The only way you could not have known is...?" he paused, furious at himself for saying something so stupid and obvious. "_How do you _not know?" he demanded, striking at empty air.

Andrea shook her head, a fake look of thought appearing on her face, painted on top of her natural smugness. "I'm not that smart. Who do you think I am? A geek?"

"No! You _don't _have _to _be _a _geek in order to know about me! That's a fact of life! It's like how knowing about George Washington you don't have to be an American history nut to know his name. The same applies to me. And if you can hear me out for one more minute, that will make this much easier."

Andrea sighed, brushing long black hair out of her eyes. "Fine."

Alexander turned his back on the girl, facing the rest of Nika's classmates. Everybody listened, eyes, ears, attention, and everything else, riveted on him. "As you _must know," he said, seriously and sarcastically, although the two were not supposed to coincide, "I have made an alliance with the president. This means that if I need help, he can help me, and the other way around. But, there's another reason why I came here. This girl-" he pointed at Pauline, "is the one who made me, who I am now. She created my world: Pallet Town, Macedonia, Alexandria all thirty of them, and me and all of my friends. She has been attempting to get proof that I was a real person, not just a made-up character in one of her books, for, who knows how long? Visiting your class is actually part of proving her right. I want to pick up a couple of your students, with your consent obviously, Mrs. Picket." Alexander's tone switched from that of a Demosthenesian sophist to that of a commander.

"Of course!" Mrs. Picket didn't waver this time. She wanted to be part of this plan, whatever the plan entailed. "Who exactly?"

"Nika, Nya, and Sebrina." Nika's two friends stood up beside her. "Bring your backpacks. You will need them, considering you may have to pack a luggage. I have some business partners I wish you to meet." He turned to leave. However, he turned back and asked "Does anyone have a piece of paper?" About thirty pieces of paper appeared in peoples' hands. He took one, took a black-and-red pen from his belt, and lay them both on a nearby desk. "Everybody who thinks that Andrea needs to brush up on, no, take a thorough look at, her history, again, sign this please."

Nobody hesitated. Everybody signed their names, wrote messages, drew pictures, and someone even wrote down their phone number. "Mrs. Picket," Alexander told the teacher in his army's-business voice, "I may need assistance from you and or your students at a later date. Here is my cell phone number and other contact information in case you need it." He clipped a badge off his belt, and he handed it to her, while Mrs. Picket gave him a slip of paper with her email address and phone number on it for his reference. She took the black and silver, laminated, credit-card-sized badge and examined it. "Alexander Alae Amon," Mrs. Picket read aloud. "Hellenic League Commander, Greek god of brilliance and of pokemon coordination, Alexander the Great. Available for random, odd errands, settling Hellenic League disputes, and missions of any kind, even the impossible ones." She laughed. "Unique. Thank you."

"Now," Minondass said, "we're leaving." Everybody waved and shouted blessings, and somebody said "May the gods be with you." They stopped and corrected, "May your worshipers be with you. They will help a lot later."

4 Months 5 Days into Operation Resurrect

Oval Office, White House, Washington D.C

10:00 p.m, California Time, 1:00 a.m Eastern Time

"Mr. President, this meeting may seem unorthodox, seeing that it is so late, but I have a very valid reason for bringing you here."

"Macalli Brenter, you already interrupted my initial negotiations with Alexander in Florida, and that did not make the best impression, even if your intentions were true. What do you want now?"

"This is very important. Did you see the news reports, especially the ones coming from California?"

Barock Obama nodded. "Well, have you seen what the people from their news networks are saying, especially Kron 4? You know what they're saying? They're saying that he will _never do harm to us! He is too powerful not to have an influence. Have you seen or heard anything about what Alexander and his companions are doing to the country? It is uprising! Now, everybody is accusing us of risking a second Afghan war. People are turning on the police, the governors, anyone in state or national authority, they're accusing them all of treason since they think that they are cutting slack. They think that we are going to use Alexander and his companions and his army in order to settle issues with Afghanistan and Libya and Egypt once and for all!

"What's worse, people are accusing us, we who work in the federal government, the protectors of their rights, of helping him do this. And if some people have figured out that we are not helping him, they suspect that he wants to overthrow us, especially you, Mr. President, and the whole presidency-Congress-Supreme Court system altogether, and appoint a _king! Their king!"

The Secret Service man was about to continue when Mr. Obama stopped him. "How do you know this?" Mr. Obama asked. "What is your proof of this happening?"

"I got this video from inside a room in the Sir Francis Drake hotel," he said. "I had Mr. Amaplates give it to me. Part of a routine report, so I had to watch it. And damn, was it interesting." He booted up a laptop and inserted a DVD. On the computer's screen, it showed Alexander speaking with Antipater Amaplates and his companions.

"Well, as I can see, you got here safely. I asked the president if I could come to San Francisco to see how you fared, and he agreed. What I really want to know is why have you flown here?"

After a couple minutes, Mr. Obama paused the video. "You mean, he's looking for this person?"

The man nodded. "Listen to this." He fast-forwarded the video until he reached the middle of one of Alexander's sentences. "She's the author of Aristander's stories. I have found out that the world me and my friends come from is only a story, fiction, fantasy, here in this world. She had written the events of my life, my second life, that have happened thus far."

"Tell me more about her." Mr. Amaplates said.

"For one thing, she is visually impaired. Very smart but not the most responsible person in the world by anybody's standards. Very passionate for history, pokemon, and many other random things."

"Athena Brazion: a Macedonian cavalry commander for the Hellenic League." the Secret Service man introduced. "And she's the patron goddess of Athens, goddess of wisdom."

"She began writing in January of 2010 when she wrote the story _Out _Ketching _Again," the video continued. "This story, when completed, was published in our world, but under Aristander's name instead."

"Aristander is the Hellenic League's diviner and one of the commanders of their hoplite infantrymen. Also the army's historian and the king's Public Relations person, if you wish to speak in modern terms."

"This happened with every other story. Anyway, she designed our world so that we could do our own thing when she wasn't writing. Her plot would kind of pause until she got to writing again. During the summer of 2010, she wrote up a theory, or tried to write up a theory, for how a book's world could be created. Basically it says that whatever you write happens in this created world, and if specified, the people in this world can bend, if not break, the laws of physics in the world the author is in, in our case this world. In the writer's world, these laws can be completely different or even nonexistent than ours. That's how we were able to teleport here, breaking the Law of Conservation of Mass."

Mr. Obama stopped the video. "You're saying that these, people, are, from another universe? They are from here, and yet, they're not from here?"

The president's bodyguard nodded. "How about we call Mr. Amaplates? We need more information. He has been in contact with Alexander the longest. He knows much more about what makes him tick."

The man dialed a number on one of the numerous phones, and the Theban's Greek accent answered. "Brenter, what is it? I am in the middle of arrangements with Achilles and Athena. They'll be waiting."

"Alexander is planning something. Something you know about." He stopped. "Wait. Who the hell do you mean by Achilles and Athena?"

"People from the _Iliad are here too." Mr. Amaplates stopped too. "Hold it. What is it he is planning?"

"He has made the alliance with us in order to receive the resources he needs for his plan. He wants to take over the United States and its government, including the president, the Congress, _everyone, with his own people. Can't you see? He's taking down our own men like dominos. You saw what he did to my men. He rendered our training useless. He's tearing the country apart from the inside out. He's starting with the citizens. Then, he will tell the governors, the state legislatures, _everyone who we rely on within the states."

The president and his comrade could not see this, but Mr. Amaplates's face registered shock. He was shocked. Why would they ever think that such a thing could be true? He may be a world conqueror, a little flighty, and not hesitant to use force, but Alexander would _never do something like that. He had common sense. He was too nice, if he could ever be called nice. He knew enough about the government that even if he were to try to convince any of their officials that their own people were after him, they would either disprove him altogether or want evidence, and substantial evidence at that. Plus, even if Alexander _was planning to do what this Secret Service man said, he would need many more people and much more widespread resources. He didn't have the rest of his best troops, let alone his whole army. What could he do alone?

"What has he told you?" the man asked Antipater, interrupting his disheartened train of thought. "Has he made any indication of his plans to overthrow us?"

"He has told me that he is going to Cupertino to find a girl. Pauline is her name. She's the one who created these stories, and therefore, Alexander and his accomplices. And he has not said anything beyond that."

"I shall get approval from the Senate to send men after him." Mr. Obama took the phone from his guard. "From the time I met him, he did not look like he was trying to take apart the government. But the Secret Service, FBI, and everyone we've got, and of course I, will investigate."

"Thank you Mr. President," Antipater said, and the two parties hung up.

Sir Francis Drake Hotel, 11:00 p.m California Time

"By Zeus what have I gotten myself into?" Antipater grumbled, stalking away from the phone. He felt guilt and regret boil up inside of him. He was friends with Alexander. He couldn't turn him in just because he may _look like he wanted to take over the most powerful nation in the world. He was harmless in this sense, even if he was still armed and dangerous. What can I tell him? Do I tell him or anyone at all? Do I have to send forces to chase him? Do I tell him that the Secret Service is coming? If I do, he may not believe me.

Then, slowly but surely, a thought occurred to the Greek. "I'm going to help you, Alexander. You may damn well hate me after this is over, but you will be much better off than if I didn't do this. Let them come." he said to the empty room behind the ice machine. "Let the president come."

"Why would he come?" Antipater jumped. Athena was behind him, her gray eyes focused on his own. "What's happened?"

"You'll find out," he said, "and so will the king."

4 Months 6 Days into Operation Resurrect

Lakehaven Terrace, Sunnyvale California

10:45 p.m

"This is the best popcorn ever!" Pauline praised Nika. "How'd you move the machine?"

"Time, effort, and begging." Everybody took another handful of popcorn as a token of their gratitude. "When are we going to sleep?" Nya asked.

"When we're tired, or probably when we're out of popcorn." Sebrina chimed in. Pauline had never slept over at Nika's house with her other friends before tonight. This was a completely new experience since there were more people to talk to, more topics to discuss, and more of many things. She yawned. "I'm brushing my teeth. I'm tired already."

The other girls agreed, and in ten minutes, they were sitting or lying down on Nika's bedroom floor in their pajamas. "Why do you want to sleep early?" Nya asked.

"I don't know," Pauline answered honestly. She wasn't sure if it was caused by all of the craziness that had taken place only a couple days before, or whether it was because she knew that she was not alone. Whatever the cause, she was tired.

Pauline curled up beneath her blanket, and the girls said their good nights.

2:00 a.m

"Do you have all her stuff? Do you have all the stuff?" Minondass's small voice came out of the small speaker on the walkie-talkie-like device belted at his waist. Except this was not a walkie-talkie. Instead of relying on radio signals, these semi-digital cousins of theirs would seek out the electromagnetic pulse coming out of its fellows, and since this pulse was unique from any other electromagnetic-energy-emitting device, it could easily find another within a large radius. "Yeah, and good thing the gravity modules in pokeballs are installed in my pack. Makes life much easier and lighter. Are you done scoping out Nika's house?" Alexander asked through his headset attached to the Pellacom.

"There's a window in Nika's room, and we could also go through the window in the adjacent room. No one sleeps in there because it's full of junk. Or we could go through the front door or the back door." he said hopefully. "I don't want to leave a trace. I don't want to attract attention."

Alexander laughed. "What front door? Who do you think we are: burglars? No, we, are doing this legally. And you know that we _always attract attention."

"Through the windows then?" Minondass asked, a little bit of sadness in his tone.

"Yes. I'm headed right out. Meet me on the edge of the big grass area near the house."

"Okay." The Pellacom's signal turned off. Alexander unplugged a laptop and some other unidentifiable electronic device (what the Hades is this thing? he thought. This looks like that brailler thing except it's much smaller. I'll ask later.) from their plugs, and he took the cords with him as well. He flicked his hand, and he reappeared outside. "Man I love being an Olympian." he said to himself. "Ah, the glories of teleporting. Leaves pretty much no trace, except for some spare heat and electric and pokemonic energy floating around. Assuming that the police here and their instruments can detect pokemonic energy. No, no they can't."

Somebody waved to him, and he returned it. He approached Minondass, Aria, Aristander, Leonardo, and Sevander cooly. He set his pack down, and he pulled a small monitor off of his belt. "What Minondass has said is correct, about the windows and all. There is a small landing here-" he pointed to it, "and there is a bathroom here and what you Ketchum referred to as the adjacent room full of junk here."

"How are you two so certain of what the inside of the house looks like?" Sevander wondered. "Did you plant cameras?"

"I did," said Minondass, who seemed proud to have planned ahead without meaning to plan ahead. "That pencil that Alexander used is Nika's. I put a camera on it, and when she got home and took it out of her backpack and set it on the dining table, it recorded whatever it saw. As for getting the rest of the house? As soon as the pencil-cam recognized that it was in the house, it sent out tiny versions of itself to investigate the rest. I didn't think we would use the camera's footage, though. And I was dead wrong."

"Anyway," the operation's leader continued, "we'll go into the house in pairs, one pair to each entry point: the front and back doors, the window, and the junk-filled room's window. We come back here in fifteen minutes and we can decide which route is the best one."

"Yes sir." they said, but Aria stopped the group. "Sire, there are only six of us. There are four entry points."

Alexander laughed again, just like how he had laughed at Minondass not minutes before. "You know I'm never, ever, going through the front door. People will not suspect a house that is broken into as much if the front or back door is still locked. Actually, now that I think about it, we don't have to climb through any windows. I can teleport us in in groups. Who's with me." Everybody's hands went up. "Good. Minondass, Aria, Aristander, you're first." Alexander flicked his hand again, and the first group disappeared. "This damn well may work," Leonardo said, sure of himself. "At first, I thought that this was crazy. Now, I'm starting to think that this could actually work."

"Stop moving." Pauline heard Nika grumble, tossing and turning on the bed in order to lie in a more comfortable position.

"I'm not moving," Pauline answered sleepily. "Nya Sebrina-" "It's not me," Nya said.

"Shhh," Pauline hushed abruptly, "listen." Everyone leaned toward the door, and they heard, strange? No, familiar noises.

"When you said this place was full of junk, you weren't kidding."

"Why would i lie about that?"

"I don't know. Which door again?"

"And you call yourself the commander ouch! Why slap me?"

"I _am the commander, and you know how random I am Minondass!"

"It's that door right there," a slightly Italian accent said. "Shall we?"

"We shall," a young Macedonian voice answered, and there was the sound of a turning doorknob. "Should we hide?" Sebrina asked. "People have broken in!"

"I know who they are," Pauline said, "but why the Hades would they come?"

"We can ask." said Nika, and before Sevander could fully enter the room, she stood up and opened the door.

"Really Sev!" Nika exclaimed. She sounded surprised, happy, and annoyed all at the same time. "Why?"

"Because we wanted to show all you guys something." he said. "They're all awake. Thanks a lot Amon."

"Okay so the plan wasn't fully detect-by-people-proof, but it's better than nothing!"

"Why in the name of Astyages and Kyros's head are you all here?" Pauline demanded. "We were sleeping! You can at least respect people's sleep time."

"I did. Be lucky that I let you guys sleep for a couple hours."

"Okay," the girl sighed, exasperated. "But what did you guys want to show us?"

"Well, you know how a couple days ago, we left your friends you know Nakita, Nellie, and Janis in the city? We're meeting them."

"This late? This early?" Nya grumbled.

"Yeah. We already packed your stuff-" "You broke into my house?" Pauline, Nya, and Sebrina shouted. "Why?"

"Specifically, I did," said Alexander. He sounded unfazed, despite the fact that he had probably broken many laws when he had committed the crime. "At least I didn't have to deal with how awkward it would have been to have walked in while you were doing homework or something."

"But really?" "Pauline," the Italian man said quietly, "come on. The king did what he did for a good reason. Be happy that we weren't caught."

"I guess so, da Vinci?" she asked.

"Yes. Come," he turned to the operation's leader. "We are a little late. The van is close by. Oh," he said to the sleepy girls, "you guys can sleep in the car."

"Hallelujah!" they cried, and Alexander teleported everybody out of the house.

"Nice ride!" Nya said. "Where'd you get that? Hertz?"

"Nah, custom made. It _was a van. Now, it's, a sports car that's slightly wider than it should be. This seats all of us, it fits all your guys' stuff, and, it has a few surprises."

"Oh gods," Pauline said. "Please don't tell me you added equipment that even the military doesn't have."

"Think about it this way: just _pokeballs are pieces of technology that the military doesn't have." Alexander opened the four doors, and everybody sat down, seating himself next to Pauline. Almost as soon as she leaned back, she fell asleep.

4 Months 1 Week into Operation Resurrect

Sir Francis Drake Hotel, 6:45 a.m

Pauline woke up sitting in a chair. "What, where the Hades am I?" she asked.

"We are," answered Leonardo from close by, "at the Sir Francis Drake Hotel. Don't ask me how we got rooms, we just did. We got two rooms, and your friends and like everybody else is next door." He stood, helping Pauline to her feet. They walked into the next room, where they were met with shouting, laughing, and, "Is somebody playing a video game in here?" Pauline asked. "Wii?"

"Whoa, you're good. Specifically Pokemon Battle Revolution." Pauline was silent for a second. "Wiis and pretty much all video game consoles are the same in our world. Don't worry. We have 3D though on our Wii, and you don't need a 3D TV or special glasses either."

"Hey da Vinci!" Alexander called, beckoning them to sit. "We've been waiting like, for like, an hour!"

"She's not trained dude. She can't run on less than nine hours of sleep."

"Sorry. By the way, I received word from Antipater Amaplates that the Secretaries of Defense and State and the president will be going to a meeting on Capitol Hill where they are going to talk about us and the League. I think they want to figure out whether they want us to be counted as citizens, foreign dignitaries, or rebels. It may be on TV right now." He switched off the Wii, reached for the remote and turned it to channel 4. Pam the anchorwoman was on again. "And now, we bring you live coverage from Capitol Hill as the President discusses the Hellenic League." The TV showed an image of the president standing behind a podium. Cameras and microphones were angled toward him, and not all of them were from United States press people. Achilles, Odysseus, and Athena were there as well, covering the action like everyone else, since Antipater had arranged so that they could do this. Their cameras were broadcasting for the thousands of Hellenic League officials back at home, the second audience. The president was in the middle of a speech. "As you all know, the Hellenic League is an ancient Greek culture-preserving organization, as well as a pokemon-centered one. As Alexander Alae Amon, its head, has told me, their members are specialized in many fields. Most are normal small business owners who give them information, but they are also historians, teachers, writers, and scholars. However, sources close to me have told me recently that the Hellenic League and its members are mostly soldiers and their officers, engineers, and spies. The Secretary of State, Defense, and I, as well as my other colleagues, have concluded that there is a rival military force within our country, no matter how small it may be, and because of this, the United States' military, Congress, and I will act accordingly. Even as we speak, brave men and women who have served in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Iran, are scouring the country, looking for Alexander and his officials.

I admit that I did not know anything about who I had made my alliance with only weeks before I stand before you today. I now realize that I have allied myself with a man who can do much damage to the government, its officials, and those we govern, one who has experience with doing just this from his countless battles. He is no longer an ally, but an enemy that now, thanks to his partnership, has gained the access needed to penetrate our government and tear it apart from the inside out. He has corrupted our Secretary of Defense Bob Gates, and the officials hired to work in the Time Space Investigation Bureau, and he has already begun to influence the minds of our citizens. I assure you all that we here in Washington will work unceasingly to find this disloyal commander and his generals of the army which will bring us to our knees. We will not sit and wait for him, like Greece and Persia had before us. We shall bring the battle to him, and now, in one of the rare instances where Congress and I must propose and approve the carrying out of, I declare the United States of America to be in, until Alexander the Great is found, to be in wartime." Mr. Obama raised his arms, and the crowd roared like the assembly that condemned Philotas, Alexander's general's son, Perminion, to stoning, and just as loudly and eagerly. The microphones in the room were heard to be crackling because the acclamations were so loud. They were reaching a fever pitch when the screen switched back to showing images of Pam and her fellow anchorman. Even though she was professional, she was shocked. "For the first time since 911, the United States is preparing for war, but not with people from another country. Our rivals are from a different universe altogether. We will bring you more coverage as soon as we can get it, right here, on Kron 4."

The room was quiet for only a moment. Then, there was a flash, a crashing sound, and a scream. Pauline dropped to the ground and felt pain coarse through her. "How could they think that?" she heard. No, she thought. No, somebody was speaking in her mind, or rather, thinking for her. "How in the name of the Indus and its blasted summers do they think I can do that?" It was Alexander's voice.

"Think what?" Janis asked. Since her voice was muffled, she was probably on the ground too.

"How the Hades could they think that I would destroy the United States! I love this country almost more than my empire and Pella." Alexander's voice changed. He didn't sound angry anymore, more brisk, stern, determined, and lucid. He knew what he needed to do, and he was not going to carry out his plan in anger. "And," he said, voice lowering, a smile of satisfaction in his tone and most likely, on his face, "I know when it can start." There was the sound of his blade emerging from his arm, just as the door flew open with a bang.

The sound of machine guns being loaded filled the air. "Sheathe your weapon, and no harm will be done to you and your companions," a man said.

A cold laugh responded. "Macalli Brenter, do you think I would _ever follow your orders? Have I ever followed your orders?" he asked, clear and cold as ever.

"No."

More laughter. "Then why do you expect me to do it now, in front of all my colleagues?"

"Because I am not alone this time." Mr. Brenter signaled with his pistol, and several dozen heavily armed men emerged from the ends of the hallway behind him and from the surrounding rooms. "It was easy to find you, considering that Mr. Amaplates has to give reports to Gates and I."

"Amaplates works for you?"

"In a way, yes. He is not in the government. He is a, friend, of sorts. He, Bob gates, and I work together. Oh, and Vade Tenner. Those two are not officially with the executive branch, they are around just in case we need them."

Alexander's anger renewed itself. He stepped closer. "Amaplates is playing both ends then?"

"You should not rely on a free man these days," Mr. Brenter said, as if he were slightly disappointed. "I thought that you would know better, considering that you have fought in many more battles than I, and because of your rank. Even I-" Before the Secret Service man could finish, Alexander was on top of him. Gunfire filled the air. Leonardo, who sat close to Pauline, pulled her down, as she had stood up to listen to the confrontation. "Get out through the window!" Minondass shouted, the clinking of his sparring blade following. Nakita, Janis, Nellie, Nika, Sebrina, Nya, and the Hellenic League officers raced toward the window. The screams of falling soldiers already accompanied the sounds of dropping weapons. The twenty or more men left standing ran after Alexander, who was just behind the last pair of escapees, Pauline and Leonardo. He followed them close behind as bullets whizzed above their heads, and one was so close to Pauline's ear that she could feel the air around it move as it broke the sound barrier.

When they hit the ground, Alexander shouted something to da Vinci. "Go! I got her." He grasped the back of her shirt and swung her on his back, and Pauline clasped her arms and legs about his neck and waist. "I'm never been able to stay like this for long," she said into his ear. "I always get tired and fall."

"You have my word that I'm not gonna let you fall. Hold on."

He seemed to run so fast that it felt like his feet didn't even touch the ground. Police sirens wailed down the street as Alexander threw Pauline into the back of the van where everybody was sitting. She gripped the arm of the people sitting on either side of her. "I can't believe this is happening," she said. She felt fearful and excited. She had written schemes like this many times. Now, she was apart of one of them. "Me neither." It was Nika.

"I agree." Nellie said. "You always said that your stuff was crazy, and I didn't think that you meant it. This seems too crazy to be real life ah!" she yelped as the car suddenly sped forward. "Like the police chases. Didn't think they could happen," she shouted over the noise.

"Well it's happening," said Aria. "I've been through this many times, but it still feels wrong, like law-breaking and life-threateningly wrong. But it's exciting too. Step on it!" she yelled to Alexander as the sounds of enemy motorcycles and gunman, crossing the street, trying to shoot us, came near. Alexander spun the steering wheel all the way around, causing us to spin in a circle, and the tires screamed for their lives, just like some of their fellow passengers. At the same time, more gunfire erupted. "Never fear my fellow refugees," he said as calmly as if we were walking to the park, took a wrong turn, and only he had known the right way. "You know when I said this thing had a few surprises? These mini ballista and nine-millimeter machine guns are some of them. They're not deadly, so we won't be convicted of murder and this. Oh crap. Didn't think we'd be this close to the bay."

"And someone's shooting our rear tires," shouted Minondass. The peer they were driving down had no side streets, only the bay looming ahead of them. "These tires aren't actually tires," Leonardo told us. "They're like tank treads. We're good."

"There are no other streets around us, like, the road is straight, and it's kind of a dead end," Nika explained. "Sanfran Cisco Bay is the only thing in front of us."

Pauline immediately figured out what Alexander was about to do. "You wouldn't!" Pauline shouted to him.

He let go of the wheel with one hand and laid the other on the gearshift, which he had ignored until this time. "You guys hear about how on MythBusters or in a James Bond movie where they installed ejector seats in a car?"

"Oh gods," almost everyone replied. We all knew about both shows he was talking about, and now, we all knew what he was about to do. "Well I thought so. You may want to hold onto something, like the people next to you or a seat belt." There was the click of a button, a whoosh, the sound of the sunroof opening, the rushing wind, the scent of water, and Alexander saying "Too late."

4 Months 8 Days into Operation Resurrect

Hard Rock Cafè, Sanfran Cisco, 12:00 p.m

"Crap. I can't believe he got away." Macalli Brenter cursed, despise the fact that he was surrounded by his fellows. "He is so-o damn smart. He drove straight into the bay, and then he and his vehicle vanished. We couldn't find any trace of it."

"No kidding." Bob Gates replied, sipping his drink. "Even on our standards, he's good. I don't know where his guns came from though. Probably hidden."

"He's mot just good." Vade Tenner said bluntly. "He's great, not to sound too clichè. It's very true. We flew out to see most of our force wounded, paralyzed, and some dead. Fantastic."

"I told you that this was what he would do," Antipater Amaplates said, as bluntly as Mr. Tenner. "He hates to surrender. Heck, he probably doesn't know what that means. And him being a Greek god allowed him to make all his stuff vanish. He could be anywhere."

"I've never had so fight a foe who, even without modern weapons, can best me." Mr. Brenter said, shuddering. He glanced around the crowded cafè, as if he expected Alexander to emerge from a corner, blade outstretched. "He's naturally intimidating. I didn't feel like fighting him."

Mr. Amaplates look troubled. He looked around nervously too. "It's his eyes." he gave voice to some new information. "When he is angered, and when he looks at you, he can control you. Minondass told me. He felt it almost countless times. Even I felt it, even though Alexander was not angry. This power surrounds him."

"So we must train ourselves to resist Alexander's..." Mr. Tenner suggested. "His Iris Fire."

"To train ourselves to resist his Iris Fire, then?"

Everyone except Mr. Amaplates nodded. "I do mot think it is possible. The harder you resist, the stronger it becomes." When he saw that his companions, especially Tenner and Gates, were ignoring him, he sighed. "Fine, do with this what you want." He stood and left. "Wait," Mr. Brenter said, beckoning him back. Amaplates turned. "Are you meeting us in D.C?" He nodded. "Good. I hope he will, no, I hope _Alexander will meet us there too."

"He will," the Theban said slyly. He picked up his backpack, and continued on his way.

He walked past single men and women and families, all carrying suitcases. He went through the security line with out any trouble as he only carried his briefcase. Four people awaited him. "How did it go?" one asked, sapphire eyes concerned.

"Odysseus, Gates and Co. want me to come with them to D.C. They're gonna wait there for Alexander. Odysseus, I was afraid that this would happen. I didn't think my plan would go pear-shaped."

"You didn't think that Gates and Brenter wouldn't send people after him?" Achilles' bright eyes pierced him with a questioning, intense, green laser beam. "Even I admit that Brenter had some nerve attacking the king, sending his best men, probably knowing that they'd be cut down."

"In my mind, that was a pathetic operation," Athena said, with the voice of Peracles: brisk and obvious. "That wasn't the only thing Macalli has planned. I suspect that he wants to send another force.

"No." the fourth member of their party said.

"Wait." Antipater looked at him, long and hard. "You were the person on television who claimed to know Alexander since you were Persian?"

Darius laughed. "Yes. I was sent along with Athena and the others. Anyway. Was that what he said? Did Gates want so send a second force?"

The Greek nodded. "I think he wants to bring Alexander to the Supreme Court. He has, after all, in his mind, committed a federal offense. We're not letting him go there then?"

"No. We'll tell him. We'll bring you along. You have to tell him about what you've done, well, he'd probably find out though. But you have to tell him or else he'll blame us and we could be demoted. That rarely happens."

"Athena," Achilles pointed to his watch, "we have ten minutes to board our plane. Should I text the king then?" Athena nodded.

Sanfran Cisco Bay, 10:45 a.m

It was wet and cool, and she could not think.

She was dizzy, and her thoughts did not cement themselves, not fully, anyway, not yet. Any detail she tried to grasp at evaded her.

How is this possible, Pauline asked herself.

She was on her back. She tried to turn over, but a hand gripped her arm. She struggled, and the grip turned into a firmer, gentler, one of caution. "Don't try turning over."

"Where am I? Where are we? Am I injured? Is anyone injured?"

"We are floating in the middle of Sanfran Cisco Bay right now. Somehow part of the van survived, but the rest sank to the bottom, I guess. You're not hurt. Everyone else is fine."

She tried to figure out who was speaking, sorting through her muddled thoughts. "Alexander, how the Hades did we get here?"

"I had to eject everyone straight into the water. I spun the car again, and apparently, it fell in the water too." Someone else stirred nearby, and there were some gasps. "Where? How-" "Minondass," Pauline explained, "we're in the middle of the bay. The van's gone."

"Oh great," an annoyed girl said. It was Nellie. "Now we have no way of getting back to the mainland. They'll find us, and we'll go through this all over again."

There was a beeping sound. "I got a text from Athena. "At Sanfran Airport." Alexander read aloud. "Bring plane. Gong 2 DC. Amaplatz with Achillz & Odysseus." Okay. They're headed to D.C without us. And they have Antipater with them. I'm not sure if that's good or bad, but we have to meet with them. I want to know what's happened while we were away."

"If we can get back to land, we can do all those things. But none of us can swim well enough," Aria pointed out, as precise as Eumenes.

"We don't need to swim. I'll just do what I did to break into your guys' houses."

"Oh my gods Alexander." Pauline was both gratified that there was a way out of their situation and unbelieving that Alexander would and could teleport them out of here, and she was wrong.

Now, everybody was standing in a open space, like a lot of some kind. "Now we're near the hangers for airplanes at Sanfran Cisco International Airport. I'm surprised that Ackisan had enough sense to think this up."

"Sire," Leonardo asked, "what did Darius think up?"

"He asked the people here if we could store some planes here. You know, in case we needed to fly somewhere. He suspected that us flying on commercial flights would pretty much put everybody in danger. And it's already here on the runway."

"Oh no, please don't tell me that the Hellenic League has aircraft!" Nika said. "First that van, now this?"

"Be glad that we don't own tanks." was the indignant and random reply. "Come on. It's convenient that all of us at the EETA have pilots licenses."

"The EETA?" Sebrina repeated. "Is that another organization of yours?"

"Yeah. It's, uh... have you ever heard of the Agayma?" Almost everyone shook their heads. "The Agayma are the cavalry and infantry that are supposed to protect the Macedonian king in battle. Well, I took some people from she Agayma and turned them and myself into a special unit of the army, kinda like a police department's SWAT team. They're called the Extra Enforcement Tactics of Alexander. My SWAT."

The plane was barely half the length of a normal commercial liner. It didn't need so fly many passengers. "It seats sixty, first class for everyone, all she security features of a normal 747, and, again, a few things that until she right times comes up for us to mention them, is classified." Leonardo guided Pauline to a seat. "When the king said that we all have pilots licenses, that's true. Our flight will follow regulation as usual, so Minondass and Alexander are co-pilot and pilot respectively." When an awkward silence followed. "He has a license. Ironically, to most historians who know about it. A son of Zeus in his own domain. But if any of them decides so come out here, Aria, Aristander, or I can fill in.

"We don't require you to turn off electronic cevices since the MythBusters confirmed that cell phones don't affect an airplane's devices," Minondass said over the intercom. "However, you may not turn them on until we are a safe altitude. As you can see, we still have the back door and the two side doors over the wings and the inflatable slides. We'll tell you if and when we need to use those. Our flight will take about four hours, so like, it's 12:00 right mow, so we should get there 6:00 California time and 9:00 Eastern time. Wind speeds are at around eighteen miles per hour, so we shouldn't be delayed. Thank you for flying with the Hellenic League, and have a nice flight."

"Well at least it was short," Sevander slid into the seat beside Pauline. "How is flying? I've never been on a plan" before."

"It's awesome," Leonardo laid his hand on Sev's. "It's what Daedalus wanted so do, until he failed. But this won't fail. It can't fail. You have my word, and by extension, Minondass's word and the king's word." Sevander relaxed. "I can catch up on my sleep," Pauline said with relief, and she lean back, as the engines shot them into the sky."

4 months 10 days into Operation Resurrect

Watergate Hotel, Washington D.C.

8:30 p.m, Eastern Time, 5:30 p.m, California Time

While standing in the bathroom, Bob Gates was smiling to himself. Then, his cell phone rang loudly. He glanced at it, and he didn't even bother to look at the text Antipater had sent him. "Antipater's on his way. Good. All we need is the "Great." He turned away from the mirror and smiled again at his friend. "Vadetterr, we've got work to do. You're going to take your primary role again."

Vade adjusted his satchel and took his friend's pose. They were Achilles and Patroculus, both combating Hector for the sake of the other.

They walked side by side to the lobby. "Want to look at this place before all hell breaks lose?" Vade asked. They both nodded.

"It's a good thing you asked. I actually wanted to take a walk. Come on. I have something to tell you."

They walked out of the hotel which was famous for Richard Nixon's scandal. They were about to begin another.

"Vade?"

"Hmm?

"You know what?" Vade shook his head. "This whole thing, the Time Space Investigation Bureau, that's not what I wanted. And you know that I love the president's work as much as the next guy. And you have recently found out that I have studied Alexander the Great and his life and how he wanted Greeks and Persians to rule together. You know what I want to do?"

Vade understood at once. "You want Macedonians and African Americans to rule together?"

He nodded. "The STIB was only a ploy to get them here. I gave this another name. I gave this whole Zeus-damned, or Zeus-blessed, mission, another name."

"It has to do with Alexander?"

"I did not think about searching for and meeting Alexander at first. Then I realized what he had done and that so many people have wanted his guidance again. Now, they all have it."

Vade sat them down on a bench. He looked at Gates with his hazel eyes. "What did you name this whole escapade?"

"Operation Resurrect."

Vade was not shocked. He looked very Hephaistion-like: understanding, yet fascinated. "You mean, you entrust the affairs of _our government to the most brilliant military commander of all time? An Iron Age commander?" Gates inclined his head. "I am awed, but not at you. I am awed, at..." Vade trailed off. He was looking to the side, as if he were talking to somebody else. "What's wrong?" Gates was concerned.

His friend pointed to something to their left.

It fit into the surroundings somehow, but if you looked at it for one second, you knew that it did not exactly belong there.

It was tall as the actual man, and it had no plinth. It was tinted much like life: fair, with red around his face and chest. He was not compact like his previous statues, but slim and light. He stood with one foot in front of the other, knees bent, hands positioned as if to strike a blow at anyone passing by. His face was calm, intense, calculating, and anything and everything else, but none of them, all at once.

"It is his eyes, isn't it?"

"What?"

"It's his eyes you noticed?" Gates wondered, even he knew the answer.

"I didn't notice him there until now." Slowly, he stood and walked toward the sculpture. "Vade?" Gates called.

He did not listen. He stood before Alexander and stared at him, searching his face, his Zeus-Ammon blessed face, trying to decipher what Alexander's expression meant, which Gates knew he was doing as well. "No wonder Cassander was so afraid of his image. It... he, he is so lifelike. Lisyppus and da Vinci did an amazing job."

"How did he get here? That is all I want to know."

"Only the gods know how he got here. I don't think it matters. Anyone could have put him here." Vade beckoned Gates, and the Secretary of Defense followed his friend's example. They stood before the image, thinking about who they, eventually, had to meet, not in peace, but in arms. "You were lost somewhere in the shifting sands of Egypt, after being worshiped in Alexandria for half a millennium as a god." Gates spoke not to Alexander the statue, but to Alexander the conqueror, the Great, the man who could, if he desired, snap his fingers and eliminate everything that the founding fathers had worked to build. "You and your bier were hijacked by your brother to be brought back to your city. You were not supposed to come back to us. You were supposed to suffer the fate of Achilles and his lover. Hades has neglected his duties."

"I don't think Hades neglected his duties." Vade spoke his thoughts, his Patroculus to Gates' Achilles, and the supposed divinity. "Heracles was a demigod, so half of him lives on Olympos, and half is in Hades. This immortal part is what we fight. If it were the mortal, that one confrontation in Florida should have taken care of him. But he fed off our power, and he used it against us at ten times its original affect. We cannot kill him Bob. If that is what you wanted us to do as a last resort, we cannot do that."

"Well what the Hades can we do, if he can't be killed, if he can evade the most highly trained soldiers in the world-" Vade rolled his eyes, "Besides his own," he clarified, "and probably even his own, and no matter how severely wounded he is, rise up ten times stronger than before? No mortal, none of us, are built to be able to contain all that power. The only thing I am sure of is that Alexander's abilities can be tapped into, the energy produced by them or that causes them, I mean. We may not be able to kill him, but if we can find a way to render his abilities mute, then he will be a sitting duck."

"How will you do that?"

"Well, Vadetterr, only one man of ours knows. And he's on his way. We can wait."

"You wouldn't even think of capturing Antipater!" Vade, instead of his usual quiet ascent, protested, waving his hands. "Can't we just get Minondass or something to sell us?"

"Even the Hellenic League's most minor officers have powers that excel us. I want somebody who can't teleport to help us."

"But you'll have to get past Darius, Athena, Achilles, and Odysseus."

"A Persian, two _Iliad heroes, and the goddess of Athens." Gates pretended to think. "They'll be easy targets. Besides, Antipater said that they have already landed, which was about half an hour ago. They should still be at the airport."

"Do we need back-up? We're unarmed."

"I'm not worried about that. If these Macedonians are reasonable, they should know when to surrender. Their "King" is thousands of miles away, and he can't travel at the speed of sound." Gates turned away from the statue and headed back toward the Watergate. "You have that beretta and blade that Amaplates gave you?" Vade nodded, almost impatiently. "Why wouldn't I have them?"

When they arrived back in their room, Gates approached the phone and made several calls. "I need you and all your officers, SWAT, everyone, to be armed and ready to deploy. We have a situation. Yes it deals with him. No, it's one of our people. He's with some of his officers. We want you to get to the airport and wait for me and Vade. If you happen to find them, take them and bring them to the Watergate. Thank you."

He hung up. "I don't think we need our arms after all. All we need to do is let the police take care of this. Those four officers should be unarmed, unprepared, and doubtful of what their course of action should be without Alexander." He leaned back in a chair, phone in one hand, television remote in the other. "Come now Sire, you do not want to flee, do you not?" he said in a mocking tone. "Not even Darius, your cowardly foe, has taken to flight. And like you said after Issos, "No matter where you choose to hide yourself, be sure that I will seek you out." Prove your Greatness Alexander. Because soon I shall take it."

Washington D.C Airspace, 6:00 p.m, California time, 9:00 p.m, Eastern Time

"Attention passengers, we will touch down in our nation's capital momentarily. Please turn off all electronic devices and secure all seat backs and trays to the upright position." the American Airlines attendant said. Who knew that we actually got here alive? Damn, we are lucky. Thank God, or rather, thank Zeus. Antipater Amaplates had never felt so grateful in his entire airplane-passenger life.

Athena fidgeted and glanced out the nearby windows. "To think," she said in awe, "I have seen my city do politics, but I've never been here. This place was burned down by the British, and it was visited by so many people: dignitaries from Egypt, China, Japan, and now, Macedon.

Somebody shoved Athena. "Go!" they said impatiently. She did not obliterate the man like a Greek god would probably do. She only sighed and followed her friends.

As soon as they stepped off the plane, something latched onto Antipater's backpack, and it pulled him down. "Let him go!" he heard Athena yell, and there was a grunt of pain. He turned his head to see Athena with her sword in her hand, and Achilles, Odysseus, and Darius standing around her, all holding red and white balls. Pokeballs! "Skiddy, use Barrage!"

"Starly Wing Attack!"

"Snivy Razor Leaf!" The trio of Pokemon's attacks flew over him, and there were sounds of shouting men. A gunshot went off, and people in the terminal screamed and began heading towards the exits. Somebody pulled Mr. Amaplates to his feet. "Go!" Darius shouted. "We can handle them!"

"I almost know nothing about you people, but I'm not letting you do this. Darius, come with me!"

He grabbed the Persian's hand, and they ran toward a nearby elevator, but a man with a heavy-looking suitcase grabbed them both. A gun barrel appeared from his suitcase. "If you don't resist, nobody gets hurt. That goes for your cat too."

Darius tried to bend for Skiddy, but the man pressed the barrel to his neck harder. "Skiddy, return," he said, and the Pokemon disappeared into its pokeball.

The man looked them over. "Mr. Brenter will be happy to meet you, Sire," he said mockingly.

"Brenter is here." Amaplates asked, even when the barrel was only a half inch from his throat.

Their capturer nodded. "Many others, along with Mr. Brenter are here, and you are about to meet them."

Washington Monument, 6:45 p.m California time

"The nation's capital. Didn't think I'd come here besides for if I was convicted of treason. And that day's come. Probably."

"Wow," Pauline muttered. "When I thought about how sarcastic Alexander could be, I didn't think it would end up like this."

"Well, even we can't anticipate everything." Leonardo said gently. "Where we going." he called to Alexander.

"Looking for somewhere where we can regroup. Amaplates sent me a text like two minutes ago that said that we should head to the Watergate. Isn't that where Richard Nixon was, like, reading papers he shouldn't read?"

"Yeah. Who knew? That place's second scandal is coming to get a room." Minondass said, unusually witty. "How about Achilles and the others? Did they text?"

"No," Sevander said, pointing to a bench across the street. "But the texts will come. Our phones aren't this universe issue, after all."

"Well," Sebrina said, sitting down, "now what do we do?"

Before anybody could answer, there was a yelp and a scrape. Sebrina jumped up, only to find that three people surrounded her. "Unhand them!" one shouted. "Put your hands up."

There was a rough shout, and the sound of shattering glass. "What are you doing?" It was Alexander. "This is Sebrina, and she has no intention of hurting us! You should have gotten my memo."

"Sire," a woman said, a little afraid, but more urgent than afraid, "that is not important. Why Achilles did that was because, well, this will make more glass break. We just got off the plane, but police or whoever they were, intercepted us. They have Antipater and Darius, and they ran into an elevator, and only the gods know where they are now."

Alexander cursed in Greek or Macedonian. "We must go back to the airport and find some witnesses. We need information from anyone we can find."

"Sire?"

"Odysseus?"

"There is no need to go back to the airport. I know someone."

"Who, exactly?"

"Zeki Mysterio."

It only took five minutes for the archaeologist to appear at the bench where everyone was sitting. He was about to do the prostration, but Alexander lifted him to his feet. "Zeki, we need you. We need you to tell us, if you can, where Antipater Amaplates has gone."

"Sire, what happened to him?"

"He was captured by some D.C police. We need help to get to the Watergate. We also need back-up."

"Be prepared to go on another police chase," Nellie said. "So you're this Zeki everybody's talking about?"

"The one and only. I know where the Watergate is. Just go about half a mile that way." He pointed.

"Well you cannot go without being armed."

"Sire," Nya said, the first time she had talked in several hours, "you don't have any spare arms."

Alexander clenched his hand into a fist and struck out in front of him. Now, Zeki had a helm, light cuirass, and round shield. Several javelins were strapped to his back. He looked at his armor. "That what you can do now that you're an Olympian Sire. The first time you've done it."

"Remember when I said that I would promote you?"

"Yeah."

"Now, you are officially one of my squires. Your first order of business: find us a car or go-cart or anything that'll get us there. I've found that too many people have seen us while walking here. Some people gave us random items as payment for stuff."

"Yes Sire!"

"Stupid door open!"

"Sire," Pauline said, trying not to laugh, "if you call the door stupid, then it won't open."

He said something in Greek. "Even if you say it in Greek, the door won't open. We could just teleport in." she suddenly suggested, sounding like she not only wanted to be stealthy, but that she wanted to avoid breaking another innocent American door.

"Who knows what's in there? If we kick this thing down, then we'll startle people. Stand back." he said, and there was a crack.

"We're saved!" Darius shouted before Macalli Brenter could cover his mouth again. "He's here to save us! Sire! Sire! In here! Thank Zeus you're here! I was thinking that you would never come!"

"Cut it out Ackisan. I came, we came, to save you, not to hear you ramble."

"Alexander." Antipater said, gesturing with a hand. "You can see that Brenter, Tenner, and Gates are here."

"Yeah. We-" "Keep it quiet." Brenter said, stalking forward. "You've gotten me in a good mood, and I don't want you spoiling it."

"Why would you be happy?" Nakita asked. "You've got Darius and Antipater all tied up."

"I'll tell you. I didn't need to tie them up. This," he moved his arm around the hotel room, pointing at various objects, stopping at the door, "this is all I need."

There was a click and a swish. A glass panel slid down over the thick wooden door. "I have all of you right where I want you."

Alexander's palms began to glow. He stared the shorter man down with his blue-grey eyes. "Why do you want us here?"

"Oh, I wanted you here to get information. I was just about to begin when you burst in. The first question hadn't even escaped my mouth."

"What kinds of questions were you going to ask?" Aria asked. "What we wore to work every day?"

A cold laugh escaped the Secret Service man. "No, but that would be good to know. I actually wanted to get to know you, Sire." He pointed to Alexander with a teasing finger. Then, he turned back to Darius and Antipater. "How did Alexander manage to knock us out in Florida?"

"Piece of cake. Even the most uneducated, alienated-to-Greece fool knows that." Darius scoffed. "Zeus gave them to him as a gift last year."

"I heard, from, who was it, Zeki, that-" he stopped. "What do you know? He's here. About face!" he barked.

Zeki stepped forward to Alexander's side. "Since I am now under the King's protection, I'll tell you. What were you saying?"

"You sent a dispatch a few months ago that said that Alexander here has fought two additional wars, or parts of a war."

"Yes." Zeki said either flatly or tiredly. "He had fought Minondass twice last year in two series of battles. It's been named the Hellandric War."

"Back to these powers. What are they? What do they do?" Gates suddenly piped up. He came to stand beside Macalli, Vade following closely after. "Well, he can use his sword, which you have seen. He can teleport. He can-"

"Zeus damn you!" Tenner suddenly yelled. He rarely swore. Now, he did so out of frustration. "What else can he do!"

"He has mind control."

"Mind control." Bob laughed. "That's only possible in the movies. And in science fiction."

"Well," Zeki replied calmly, "Alexander's world is somewhat science fiction. As I was saying, his mind control comes from his eyes. When he looks at someone, he can read their thoughts and control them."

"That is impossible." Macalli sneered. "I have been trained to resist psychological torture. Counteracting that is a piece of cake."

"Oh really?" Alexander seemed amused, the way Ares would be if an ordinary boy tried to fight him. "If you can resist, then why are you not?"

Brenter looked confused for only a second. "What the hell do you mean? I am resisting right now."

Alexander chuckled. "Amusing that you think that. You think that you're so smart? You are not. I had planned that I let Antipater go with you. I knew that he was giving information to you. I wanted him to do so. I had told him right after I first met him that he could do whatever he thought was needed in order to make this happen. You and I, are right where I want you and me."

Bob snickered. "You wanted Antipater to be captured?"

"Yes."

He clapped in mock applause. "Good that you fulfilled that. What are you gonna do? Kill us? We are fully armed, and thousands of armed gunmen are in the city outside, waiting for you."

"No. I have my Companions to do that. And some eager Orlando volunteers."

"What the Hades?"

There was a flash, the sound of shattering glass, screams, and a familiar, satisfied, Macedonian conqueror's laugh.

"I guess," Pauline shouted, "you get to go to Florida after all, Nika."

4 months 11 days into Operation Resurrect

Time Bender Building, Orlando Florida

10:00 p.m California Time, 1:00 a.m Florida Time

Somebody fell onto a hard wooden floor, and there was a "What?" soon afterward.

She was standing, but wobbling, as she reappeared.

Pauline grasped someone's arm and felt a tingle run up her fingers and into her body. She would know him anywhere. "Where are we?"

"The Time Bender Building. Time Space Investigation Bureau." was the embellishment-free reply. "I know this place."

"Me too." Minondass's small voice came from someplace near their feet. "We appeared here. When Gates and Ema and the president first met us, we appeared here."

Sebrina said, "Ema's the redhead who Gates hired, works for the government, brought you here with her stuff?"

"Yeah. That's her. Wait." Aria sounded like she was thinking. "Where is Ema?"

There was a scream and rushing footsteps. Alexander revealed his blade and opened the door.

The redhead scientist was in tattered jeans and a green T-shirt. She looked haggard, as if she had stayed up all night for days working. There was a difference though. As she ran, there was the clinking of metal. Her ankles were chained together, and she was not running, but shuffling. Her wrists were tied together behind her back, and her mouth was stuffed with cloth, her whole head not including her hair wrapped tightly with a black bandana. There were several cuts, scrapes, and bruises on her body, from, as far as everyone could tell, when she had run into things while fleeing from whoever or wherever she was before she had come here.

"Is that you? Alexander? Minondass? Anyone!" Her voice was muffled because of her gag.

Aria put a hand on the woman's shoulder. Though Ema was ten years her senior, she looked as scared as a teenager who was in the same situation. Her training with the Secret Service had been tossed away in a matter of seconds. "Get away from me!" She tried to shake Aria off, but this time, Alexander reached for her hand too.

She stopped struggling. Her face was blank, but at the same time, it seemed as if her mind was racing. "Sire?"

"Yes. Look, I can tell that we all have something important to say. Do you know what's happened?"

"No! I've been here for weeks, all by myself. I've eaten almost nothing. They told me to stay there, and that if I left, they would find me!"

Nika asked, "Who's they?"

"Gates. Vade Tenner. Macalli Brenter." Her voice was a sponge soaked with hate. "He hit me. He threatened that if I tried to escape, he would know. I believed him!" she screamed. Abruptly, she began wrenching at her bonds. "He knew that I am not very strong. He knew that it wouldn't take very much to restrain me. Damn him." she said through teeth clenched in pain.

"We can help you. I can cut those. First, Zeki, take off her blindfold, and then her gag."

They cleared the way as Zeki came forward. He used the edge of a dagger to cut Ema's bandana blindfold off. He reached into her mouth and removed her gag. She stared at everybody, blinking crazily. "Zeki Mysterio," she said with respect. "So you found Alexander?"

"Yep. Also, apparently, I got caught up in his escapade too."

She was puzzled. "What escapade?"

"After Alexander appeared," Zeki explained, "he went to San Francisco to find Pauline Ugalde." He guided Pauline up to shake Ema's hand. "You're this back street astrophysicist, quantum physics, mechanics, and all things nerd scientist that Amon's raving about?"

Ema smiled. "Yes, yes I am. Go on Zeki."

"Anyway, he went to the city to get her, and Antipater let him know that Gates and Brenter wanted to capture him and convict him of treason. Somehow, they intercepted Darius, Athena, Achilles, and Odysseus."

"I should have known," Ema said scornfully. When Zeki looked hurt, she added, "I'm not mad at you. It's Brenter. I've known him ever since I first had an interest in serving my country. It all started fifteen years ago.

I had just been admitted to work for NASA. I was supposed to come up with ideas for space probes. I made plans for the Spaceshuttle missions. Later, I had helped make probes like Spirit and Opportunity in 2003, and later still, New Horizons in 2006. Those later projects do not matter, though.

I had made some drafts for parts of New Horizons, specifically the engine. I knew that if it was to be powered by traditional rocket fuel, you know liquid hydrogen and helium, then the fuel would weigh too much to be lifted off the ground. I decided that having a small ion-powered engine would be a great power source. In the rear end of the craft, I proposed that there should be some hydrogen that would be ionized by removing an electron. The ions would come out the back in a stream, and the push would propel the probe.

Unfortunately, Brenter, who was higher up in the independent agency hierarchy than me, scoffed at me. He said, "Ema Kelly. Young, green, Ema Kelly. Who would ever want to rely on such a new, such a science fiction-like, such an unreliable power source?" He had laughed at me, laughed! He had slapped the table, causing my drink to spill on my laptop. It was supposed to be waterproof, but no. The manufacturers were wrong. As a result, my drawings were gone. The next week, my paper hard copies were gone. I knew that he had destroyed them. Nobody else hated me enough. From that day forward, I kept all my work locked up. I only worked alone, and I had enough cash to hire guards to protect me and my drafts, in and out of NASA.

Somehow, old Brenter figured out a way around this. A year after New Horizons was launched, he had quit his NASA job to work in the Secret Service. He had spent two years protecting not the president, but the politicians in the House of Representatives. While there, he had gathered a following. He had told them his views on politics, his ways of dealing with many things: making friends, bribing allies, plotting against foes. He ended up being so popular amongst his fellows that he was given the name "Never Stopper Brenter." Never stopper." Ema laughed, almost gleefully. "That is pretty damn well fitting. After those two years, he began to work in the White House. After Obama became president, he became part of his guard. He was with him wherever he went, whether it be within the country or halfway across the world. Even after quitting, he somehow, always, somehow, found ways to contact me and gloat. "See, Ema?" he would say. "You are stuck in the basement at NASA, working feverishly on projects that will never be considered or tested, let alone carried out. Look at me. I am serving our country's leader, the first African American one too. Your work will never help the country. Ever. You can just pack up your things and go back to Sorulian City where you belong."

Alexander held up a hand. "You're from, there?"

"Yes. The equipment that I used to bring you here, I tested on animals and on myself. In one test, three years ago, I was brought there. The residents made me feel at home. Misty became my friend. I learned about pokemon that way. She had said to me, "You are young, confident, and beautiful. You would be the perfect trainer. Too bad your parents can't see What you've done."

As Ema recollected, her eyes filled with tears. "I am an orphan. I was born in 1986, and both my parents had gone to fight in the Gulf War, my dad being a fighter pilot, my mother a nurse. However, at some point, I had discovered that they had died there. Both, supposedly, were very brave. I tried to search for them in databases about that war, but their names never showed up."

"Maybe it's because they only included more famous people." Sevander suggested. "They can never talk about everyone."

"But my father was in our army's general's squadron. They just _have to have remembered him!" she shouted. "He fought so bravely. How can nobody know him?"

There was a laugh. It was not Alexander this time.

"You." She turned around, everyone else following.

"Yes." said Macalli Brenter. "It is very sweet of you, to tell them your dilemma. Sweet of you to tell them, when the answer is so obvious."

"Stop!" Leonardo yelled, his accent somehow making him sound very purposeful. "She has dealt with enough. You have captured her against her will, and now, against the Hellenic League's will. She is one of us now."

A streak of silver shot out of Leonardo's hand: A badge appeared around Ema's neck. Ema Kelly, Hellenic League Engineer, Diades' Assistant. Macalli's face contorted into an expression not of cold surprise, but one of rage. "You are taking her from us! The government! I can't believe that you would do something like that!"

"Actually," Alexander said cooly, not caring that Macalli looked mad enough to kill, "she was never yours. She had, as you probably know, went to Sorulian City several years ago. My people, or who would become my people, accepted her. They took her in, made her feel like she had a family. You only made her feel agony and pain. You made her go away to Sorulian City. You made her think that her job is not important and that it would not serve her country. Well, look, No Stopper Brenter."

The light-haired, dark-eyed, man lunged at Alexander, a pistol in one hand, a bayonet in the other.

As quickly as he had lunged, he stopped, knees bent. He turned to Ema. "You know, Ema," he said, tone coming in highs and lows that could only mean he was mocking her, mocking them all, "I know what you do not."

"What is that?" she said, words said through clenched teeth.

"I know what happened to your parents."

"What the hell do you know about them? You barely know me."

"I got rid of them. I was the one who erased them from your databases."

Time Bender Building

Ema exploded. "How could you!" she yelled. "How did you know about them?"

"It was quite easy. You must know that since I work with the president, I have access to information like who had fought in that war. I had friends who worked first-hand with enlistment papers."

"Why would you do something so unbelievably unpatriotic?" Pauline asked, aghast. "I thought that people who protected the president were supposed to sacrifice their lives in order to serve their country."

"Ema's father and I knew each other at some point. Xavier Kelly was my closest high school friend. His grandfather had fought in World War II, and he was very interested in the design of the weapons. I could not keep up with him. In college, he and I went our separate ways. He took a course in military history, and I pursued law enforcement. Before I entered NASA, in fact, I was a police officer in Richmond, Virginia. Eighteen years ago, I met Xavier again, and he offered me a job. "What kind of job?" I had asked.

"You're going to work at NASA."

I had laughed and walked away, but as promised, several weeks later, I was in Florida. Xavier and I worked together designing satellites. Then, you came." He pointed a finger at Ema, disgust slick upon it. "Before you came and Xavier left, we were closer than ever. When you entered the agency, everything turned sour. Your father wanted to, as he had called it, "Test my ideas in the field with all the variables possible included."

Before he left, however, something happened. He and I were working, as usual, when I noticed that he had walked out with my plans. I asked around, and I eventually found him in a conference room, flashing my work around. "This is brilliant," he was saying. "This will be perfect. This will help those guys in Operation Desert Storm no doubt." I had barged in, glanced at the papers only once, and realized that those were my satellite plans. He was taking credit for what I had done. I had stayed up for days drawing, calculating, consulting with colleagues, and he was being praised after one theft."

"He would never do something like that!" Ema yelled. "He was brave enough to fight in the Gulf War. Why would he do something like that?"

Macalli smiled. "Maybe, he wanted to fulfill his war dreams. He always blabbed on and on about how much he wanted to experience it for himself. Thanks to that meeting, he did. Six months later, he was in the Middle East."

"I always heard about how kind, considerate, and fun-loving my father was," Ema said, voice shaking, tears in her eyes again, "and I just know that he would never discredit you!"

"Well," Macalli said, brisk as a busy businessman, "he did discredit me. There's nothing you can do."

Ema sprang toward Macalli, fist outstretched. Almost languidly, he cut her hand wish the bayonet, jabbing her in the stomach with the pistol. She shook off the pain and elbowed him in the chest. He had not forgotten his training. He fired a round at Ema's chest.

It deflected.

A sword met Macalli's bayonet thrust, supposedly aimed at Ema's heart, making for a quick end, which she did not deserve.

Alexander was standing in Ema's place, the woman being behind him. He slashed at the knife. The sword was not harmed. Instead, it was cut in two.

Macalli stared at his useless hilt in confusion, then jumped back as he was nearly beheaded. He fired his pistol a second time, and this time, he saw what was happening to his shot. It was shattering in mid-air, like a piece of glass, the chards falling to the floor. "How the hell do you do that?" Ema shouted, seeing it too.

Alexander smiled, excitement pouring from him. "Something that zeus gave me. He knew that I had been shot with too many arrows, so why not be able to control them?" As he spoke, he used his sword to block the bullet, which ricocheted in a line so straight that it nearly hit Macalli's breast.

He was not finished yet. He pulled a second knife from his hand, but before Alexander could react, he pressed it to his ear. "Come in here," he said.

Who the Hades would use a phone in the middle of, of, whatever `s happening? Ema thought. Wow. "Bring reinforcements. It is only Alexander and his "soldiers."

Minondass, Leonardo, Darius, Zeki, and Antipater jumped forward, each holding not a sword, but a eighteen-foot-long sarissa. These were telescopic, and when in their smallest form, they were a mere two feet long. The hedge of spears advanced toward Macalli, who tried to back up, finding that the miniature phalanx could follow him. He sidestepped, only to find that the spears swung to meet him. He fired his pistol at each person in turn. Yes! He was glimpsing victory. Those shields do not stand a chance against a gun.

Ping. Ping. Ping. Like tiny tennis balls on concrete asphalt, the bullets bounced off the bronze shields. Alexander looked pleased. "The glories of bulletproof items. That isn't bronze. There are layers of kevlar, bullet proof glass, and bronze in all my soldiers' pieces of armor. Very affective, yes?"

"We don't want to know about your weapon design!" Vade Tenner's voice bellowed from somewhere close to Ema. "Fire!"

There were rapid clicks as bullets whizzed around everybody. Similar to what happened at the Sir Francis Drake hotel, Pauline felt a bullet come so close to her that she could feel the air parting before it brush her hair. Aristander and Aria pulled her, Nika, Sebrina, Nya, Nakita, Nellie, and Janis to the ground as the fire- and sword-fight raged around them. "How many reinforcements?" Nya shouted over the noise.

"Only twenty-five here," Aristander began to say, but there was a loud crack from the window beside her as it shattered. "Actually, there are about five times that number outside, so about 150 armed gunmen."

"Behind you!" Zeki shouted mid-thrust, as three men surrounded Aristander. She raised her hands above her head, and a wave of energy blasted the men back against a wall, straight into their fellows, about ten others. About half of them fell, but the remainder advanced on the soldiers so far unengaged.

Pauline felt somebody grab her shirt and begin to pull her down. She rammed her elbows and feet into his body as they fell onto the floor. I can't believe that I'm applying my self defense lessons. She scratched his face and arms, trying to roll them both over, so she would be on top of him. Something was tugging on her assailant's back. A Greek voice met her. "Get off her! Go to Hades, and never come back!" Roughly, Achilles pulled her to her feet. "They did a good job."

"Who did a good job?"

"Alexander and the rest of the guys. Everyone from the Secret Service is gone, for the moment anyway."

When the Trojan's attacker had finished, there were no shouts. It was quiet. There were no screams of falling Americans, war cries of blood-frenzied Macedonians, and not a note of the high-pitched, too-young for his age, shrill, spine-tingling voice of Alexander. Which was unlike him. "Where in the name," Achilles said, "is the King?"

"Alalalalai!" somebody replied.

Marching. Almost mechanical, rhythmic, perfectly timed, accurate to the beat.

Metal clinks, and singing.

"Alexander the Great,

His name strikes fear into hearts of men.

Alexander the Great,

Is still a legend amongst mortal men.

Alexander the Great,

His name strikes fear into hearts of men.

Alexander the Great,

Died of no fever in Babylon.

"Sarissas at the attack!" There he is, Pauline and Achilles thought. My friend. My King. Our King.

"Sound the paean!"

Guitar strings twanged. A throat cleared. Close by. Soldiers fell silent.

"Take my hand,

You know I'm in control.

And understand,

You should let me take my hold.

I've persuaded the most stubborn,

I've made brother turn on brother.

I want to hear your yes,

And I'll get it

That's mot a guess,

Let me speak, let me speak, let me speak."

Gasps filled the air, guns loaded, and some federal daggers were unsheathed. "No matter what he does, attack. Never defend. I sook that from Pressfield, and I see why it's useful. Lastly, as Alexander has said, "Kill the King!"

What was she hearing?

That was all Pauline thought as the battle raged close by.

Swords slashed. Bows fired. Sarissas found flesh and skewered it with ease. Everybody did one of two things: try to find and the King, or protect the King.

Both tasks were impossible. Alexander was throwing himself straight into harm's way, engaging whole files of men at once, while fending off a second. His armor flashed, though there was very little light. He was heard, even over the shouting voices of two opposing armies, cultures, countries, clashed around him.

There was a sharp pain in Pauline's side. She felt it to find that it was wet, and there was mo water near her. She felt for a familiar arm to grab, and she found it. It came down, and there was a scream.

It took one blow to fell the man that had tried to kill her. Alexander was pleased. He had come seconds before the man would have dispatched her with his bayonet. She may know military tactics, but she is not meant for battle. If her partner is slain, then she is hopeless. "Hey," he said, bending down, whispering in one ear.

"What is it Sire?"

"Even in this commotion, you can hear me?"

"Well you're an inch away from my face."

"Point taken." He turned around for a second, and Pauline heard a splat. "Anyway," he continued, "have you heard from Achilles, Zeki, or any of the others?"

"No. I don't think I would be able to hear any of them. They're not standing next to me. Where's Ema?"

"Fighting like Alecto," he smiled. "Doing pretty damn well, considering that she has no League training. I'm surprised. No one has succeeded in wounding her, and if anybody has, then she does not show it."

"It's 'cause she hates Macalli. I could hear it in her voice. She is exactly like that Danish billionaire,, Henric, from the Cotton Malone series, in Paris. She's thinking clearly, unlike Henric. They have something in common, though. Both had family members killed."

"Sire!" a messenger ran up to Alexander. "Aristander needs reinforcements. She is on the floor below us, near an elevator. She tried to escape, but the Service jammed it."

"On my way. If you can, take forty of your troops too, Peerclis." He addressed Pauline again. "You know what we did at the Sir Francis Drake?"

"What did you do again?"

"You know about when you were on my back?"

"Yes."

"I'm going to do that again. I'm wearing my cuirass, so all that you need to do is slip in between my back and the cuirass's back plate." He knelt, and she did what he had told her to do.

He stood, and they sprinted to Aristander's aide.

I always knew that Vade Tenner had fought in the Afghan war, but I didn't think I would see him do it here on American soil. Robert Gates watched as Vade shot Macedonian after Macedonian, looking for the unprotected parts, especially places right beside their armor. If he was surrounded, he would always find a gap. He would dart free, turn around, and shoot.

There were three things that troubled him. The first was the fact that he had not seen Macalli Brenter. He had only glimpsed him as he had charged into the fray at the beginning of the engagement. Could he be dead? No. Gates shook his head. He's our best guy. He can't be killed by these barbarians.

The second thing that worried him: the location of She had eyed Macalli earlier, and she looked very angry. She had taken a sword and shield from an officer and joined a phalanx's ranks. Who knows who she was fighting now? She could be sparring Macalli on the roof, for all he knew.

The last thing that worried him: where the Hades was Alexander? He was, supposedly, fearless to the point of recklessness. He was supposed to be seen at the forefront of the battle, risking his life alongside his men.

Where was he now?

Alexander jumped over a dueling American and a Torchick, who both looked up in confusion. Who could blame them? He landed and spotted a green and blue blade, flashing purple. "She's on our left. She does need reinforcements. Peerclis!" he shouted, and the squire and his men charged forward, breaking the lime of enemy infantry. Aristander broke free and dispatched her opponent, before turning to her King. "Happy that you found me." She glanced at Pauline. "Clever. Only you can pull that off, though."

He nodded. "I'm just wondering. Where's the rest of the EETA?"

"Probably fighting elsewhere Sire," said Peerclis. "Should I look for them and bring them here%"

"Yes. Go." Peerclis ran off into the fighting crowd. Rarely anyone was using guns, even the Americans. Knives and bows were more common than pistols. Pokemon burned, shocked, froze, drenched, and controlled their opponents until they could find a gap and strike the fatal blow. "How are we doing?" Pauline asked from her place sandwiched between his back and backplate.

"We are doing much better than I thought. We have 150 men, and the Secret Service has about 200. Our numbers are okay. The only reason why we are not slaughtering them is the fact that we do not know this building as well as they do. They have patrolled it for months, after all. We had arrived only a few days ago. Here they come." Leonardo, Minondass, Aria, Sevander, and the others approached. All had sustained minor injuries. "Where shall we meet Sire?" Minondass shouted.

"In there." Alexander pointed with his blade to a nearby office. Strangely, nobody had opened it yet, though it was in plain sight. They crowded in.

"How are your battalions?"

"Our casualties are lower than expected Sire," Aria said, sounding like she was reviewing money figures instead of soldier deaths. She was unperturbed by the battle raging outside. "The Service had 200 men, and about one in every five are dead, so forty."

"Your battle plan was flawless as usual Alexander." Sevander did not sound his age. He sounded almost more mature than his superiors. "It was simple and affective.

"I have noticed something," Zeki said, clearing his throat and standing. "I have not seen Macalli Brenter and Ema Kelly. From the reports that I have read, it seems that the is fighting in Ptolemy's third regiment, second company. Doing very well. Great in close quarters."

"Where was she reported to be seen in your last report?"

"Sire, she was seen going into the Appearance Room." The Appearance Room was the informal name that had been given to the place where they had all appeared. "She was alone. She had a short-sword and a pistol. Looked very pissed, I mean, so pissed that she could kill anybody that she saw."

Alexander was not surprised. "I know why she is there. Only Zeki, Pauline, and I must go into that room. You must wait outside. No master what happens, you do not go in. Understand?"

After a short pause, there a chorus of eager "Yes Sires!" from Alexander's closest generals.

Pauline climbed onto his back again, and Zeki followed close behind them, the rest of the generals behind him at a distance.

At first, Pauline was thinking, what the hell will Ema Kelly do? Then, she thought about how she had been seen going into the Appearance Room, where the equipment that had been used to detect the signals that brought Alexander into her world had been detected, where contact had first been made.

No. She could never think of doing that.

Alexander opened a door, and he, Zeki, and herself stepped inside. Everybody else obediently stayed outside.

"Thank you for coming, Sire." said a calm voice from off to their left, near the desk where the legendary computer sat, undisturbed by the battle.

There were some clicks, like a mouse button being pressed, and sharper clicks: the keyboard's keys being pressed.

The felt a surge of energy and emotions that did not even apply to the situation flood her. There were yells from outside: Minondass, Aristander, Aria, Sevander, Leonardo, and Lisa. There were footsteps, and the shrieks of Janis, Nakita, Nellie, Nika, Sebrina, and Nya soon followed. How they had managed to find them was a mystery that did not require solving.

Gates felt energetic for some reason. He felt conflicting emotions: happiness, sadness, anger, joy, grief, mixed with a tint of something else. Freedom. He was wounded from several bullet shots, whose pain he could feel magnify as his feelings swelled. Even though he was hurt, he felt free. He raised his hands, and the feeling swept at him and for him with inviting hands.

Pauline felt liberated. She felt pain, but it seemed to travel away, like a car driving in the opposite direction as herself. She was joyous somehow. The battle was being fought only several feet away, and she was filled with bliss.

The bliss took her by the hand. It wrenched her away from Alexander, and the tingle of energy that came from his skin vanished. She did not resist. She did not want to resist. If Ema caused this, she thought, then it must be for a good reason.

She was gone. Alexander, Zeki, everybody, was gone.

Mt. Olympus, Greece, 8:00 p.m, 3:00 a.m California Time

Zeus stared at Diades Symoniki, Alexander's engineer. The man's fair skin and short-cut brown hair seemed to be made for his job. Both were clear, concise, and well-placed, like bolts or anchors on a bridge.

They stared at a video monitor. A battle raged across the screen, Secret Servicemen and Hellenic League soldiers clashing. "I can't believe that they did it." Diades said after a moment. "They found him, and as you predicted, they're chasing him. It's exactly like the people here. I guess humans from other universes are more similar than I thought."

Zeus inclined his head. "This is why I allowed him to go. Nobody else could have pulled it off, or rather, no one else could have handled this so easily."

Diades glanced back at the screen again. There was a flash, and blurs danced across the screen. The screen flickered. "What the Hades?" he muttered. "From the electronic readings that the King has sent to me, their equipment is EEG stuff, radio wave detectors, and some other things. It's like ours, except bigger and with less power. Their batteries are not as efficient, and they cannot detect pokemon energy."

"Did the pokemon energy cause that?" Zeus asked, pointing at their flickering image.

"No. Somebody there sent an electromagnetic or electric pulse into the area, and that contacted some pokemon energy, either from our equipment or our guys. That warped space, if not time, and that transition made our camera go dead."

"Where are they?"

"Well, our stuff is in Pallet, so they are, most likely, there."

Pallet Town, 2:50 a.m

Pauline unclasped her arms and legs from around Alexander, and she landed on her feet. Confused talk came from all around her, Macedonian and Greek accents mixed with rough American ones. Almost no one actually knew what had happened. The generals knew what had happened though. Footsteps headed their way. "You brought us here?"

Ema nodded. "It was the only way that I could think of in order to level the playing field. You know this place better than anyone else."

Alexander signaled for her to stop. "I can not believe that I am saying this, but I need back-up. We need a second general, no, a third, since Minondass is already a general."

"Sire," Nika said, falling into the League's protocol, "all the generals can't leave their units. We need to find one."

Pauline laid a hand on Alexander's back, and he turned. "Who do you suggest?"

"Ulysses S. Grant."

"What the Hades?"

"He was the Union's general during the Civil War. He didn't win many battles at the beginning, but he beat Robert E. Lee in the end. He actually went to California. You and I can go get him."

Alexander tugged her hand. "Okay. Minondass, Aria, and Aristander shall command the troops while we use our equipment to go back to the Civil War. It should not take long, assuming that Grant will comply."

They rushed through town until they reached a house on their street. He knocked on the door, and Professor Oak answered. "What is it Sire?"

"We need to use the Televerse." Without batting an eye, Samuel Oak nodded. A minute later, he brought a machine the size of an arcade game console outside. Alexander typed in a date: April 9, 1865, the day that Lee had surrendered to the Union at Appamattox Courthouse, ending the war. Ulysses S. Grant would need to fight in another war, 150 years after his own.

Appamattox Courthouse, Virginia, April 9, 1865, 5:00 a.m

"Well, when historians said that Lee was well-dressed, and Grant was mud-splattered, they were not kidding." The two of them stood outside a door, half open. Inside the room beyond, two men stood staring at each other, one in a blue uniform and another wearing grey: the Union and Confederate colors.

"I will allow your men to go home as long as they swear by God that they shall not fight again. They may keep their weapons, and my generals and I shall give your men food."

The grey-clad man nodded. "Thank you, Grant. For a Yank, you are pretty damn generous." They stood and grasped hands. "You know," said the blue-uniformed soldier, "I feel like I have seen you. Back in Mexico City. We both helped take it, and I met you."

The man in the grey uniform, Robert E. Lee, shrugged. "All I know is that I surrender to you now, and that this is the first time I have seen you."

Grant turned toward the door, where he met Alexander's confused and amazed eyes. He stared back. He looked him up and down, examining his chiton and his purple cloak. "Who the hell are you?"

Alexander and Pauline came in, and Alexander held out a hand. "I am Alexander Alae Amon, commander of the Hellenic League. I know that you will ask what that is, and who I am, and I will explain momentarily. The Hellenic League is an army formed out of not soldiers from one country, but from many countries, similar to the Union or the Confederates and their men from different states. Right now, we fight a war for our existence. We need your help, you and your men's help, in order to do this."

"Where are you from? Where is your army? Why should I help you? I'm in the middle of a war right now. Why would I fight another one?"

"I am from Pella Macedonia, in Europe. Before we get too far in the proceedings, I must say that I am the very famous and well-known general Alexander the Great." Grant gaped at him again. "Where I come from, the dead can live again. It is a century and a half in the future, 150 years after this war began."

"To American historians, students at West Point, and schoolchildren, it will be called the Civil War." Pauline added, and Grant and Lee both looked at her. "Pauline Ugalde. In your time, you may know that Dorthea Dix has helped improve the way people in prison and who are mentally ill are being treated, and blindness may be one cause that she's helping. I am unable to see. I have joined the Hellenic League in order to serve not only the United States, but all of the other countries in it. 150 years after you leave this house, the Union will still exist, but the South will be apart of it too. You will be called the United States once again. Lee, you accepting Grant's terms of surrender allowed slavery to be outlawed, and in the future, it remains outlawed."

"A woman?" they both said. Despite their major differences, they were both very confused. "You are supposed to be at home housekeeping, not marching with armies." said Lee.

Pauline thought for a moment. Should she tell them? If we are going to be allied with these two, then I must tell them. They would find out soon enough anyway. "In the 1960s, 100 years from now, women and blacks will be given the right to vote alongside white men. It would not matter if you owned slaves or land. You would only need to be a legal citizen and at least eighteen years old. The president is still there, and he is African American. He is the first black president."

"To think," Lee remarked a little coldly, "the negroes who work our fields now will have rights like us."

"Yes," Alexander continued. "As I was saying, the Hellenic League is based in the United States, in California to be exact, in Pallet Town." When neither general showed signs of recognition at the sound of Pauline's and Alexander's adopted home town's name, they did not appear surprised. "There is one more thing I must tell you," Alexander explained, stepping forward. "Come on out everyone!"

Nine flashes lit the room: Azelf, Turtwig, Milotic, Exeggcute, Espeon, Pachirisu, Andelexrae, and Bronzor. The newest member of Alexander's team, Oshawhatt, came out last. He had traveled to the Unova region and received his starter pokemon from Professor Juniper, his first Unova pokemon. All nine stared around them, gazing first at their trainer, then at the two Civil War generals.

Azelf was the first one to react. She stiffened, and then she dropped to her knees, eyes fixed on Ulysses S. Grant. "You, you are," she stammered. "Grant." she managed to say.

The man seemed as shocked to see her as she was to see him. "What, who, are you?"

"That is one species of pokemon that live in our world," Pauline expounded what Alexander had begun. "They are like normal animals, except they have abilities that normal animals will never have and can do things that an animal will never be able to do. There are over 600 different species, each with their own characteristics."

"Why did they travel with you?" Lee asked. "Are they-"

"I know what you are gonna say, and they are not slaves. They fight for the trainer, the trainer's personal army, you could say. The pokemon trainer takes care of their pokemon: feeding them, sending them to a pokemon center, a kind of hospital, if they are sick, teaching them attacks to use in battles against other trainers. Pokemon, in a way, travel with their trainer of their own freewill, but they do not live outside."

"They live in one of these." Azelf took a pokeball off her belt and gave it to Pauline, who passed it to the nearest general. Once again, their countries' differences disappeared for a moment as they both explored the pokeball. "So light, and so small, small enough to carry, pokemon," Grant used the word as if it were either a taboo or a word in a foreign language, "so much larger than itself."

Azelf tapped the pokeball. "When one of us goes inside, we are transformed into energy, not energy like that in a fire or from an earthquake, but pure energy. We remain conscious, aware of what is around us, and mirrors, magnets, and lights help us stay in this energy state. When Alexander called us out, his voice activated the pokeball, and it turned us back into matter again."

"Alexander," Lee put forward briskly, "what were you about to say?"

"There is one more difference between your time and ours. The United States government had made an agency called NASA, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, which sent men and women into space in order to explore the universe around us. The government thought that the agency was out of date, so they have discontinued it, and in its stead, they have created the Time Space Investigation Bureau, whose members study theories like the origins of the universe. Our Secretary of Defense, Robert Gates, has created a device which searches for parallel universes, universes like or unlike this one. I am not from this universe, so they found my comrades and I, but Gates sent men after us, who wanted to bring us back to Washington D.C to accuse us of treason. I went to Sanfran Cisco and found Pauline and her friends, and afterward, we traveled across the country, seeking refuge. We eventually arrived in Florida, where the Space Time Investigation Bureau is located, and we fought the president and his men. One scientist by the name of Ema Kelly, sent us back to my universe, where and when we decided that we needed generals like you. The government that George Washington and Thomas Jefferson worked so hard to make is attacking its citizens unjustly, and we need dedicated Patriots to help us. Please Grant. You are among some of my favorite generals and people, and what you did for your country, well, your half of the country, will have greater affects than they seem to have now. You will allow everybody to have equal rights, even freed slaves and women. You made the United States greater than you could ever imagine. I need a general like you to round off my army."

Grant stood still and thought for several moments. Alexander the Great was such a success, while the Greyback next to him had invaded the Union and futilely, tried to assert his command. He may have dedicated men, but they were smart enough to know that he was stubborn, proud, and not the brightest man. He shook Alexander's hand first, then each of his pokemon in turn, and at last Pauline's, whose fingers felt every callus and scar on his hand. He leaned to whisper in her ear, but she recoiled. "I always heard about how unsanitary army camps were, and I never thought that those claims were true. Now, I know that they're true. As soon as this is over, you need to bathe, Sir."

"Unconditional Surrender" Grant smiled, the first smile that had appeared in a very long time, forgetting that the girl who was holding his hand could not see that. He stepped back. "You will be a fine soldier, for a lady."

"You shouldn't call me a lady. I'm not that proper." Pauline's voice changed from being playful to being serious. It took only an instant. "Sire," she said to them both, "we must go. The others will be waiting."

Lee turned to Grant. "I hope that you shall serve your half of the country as dedicated as, it seems, that historians have called me incompetent."

Grant shook the Johnny's hand again. "Thank you. When you go outside, tell my men that I shall be in my quarters for a while."

"You don't need to." Oshawhatt pointed outside, where thousands of men watched the meeting through windows. They had heard the whole thing, all the 100,000 that were there. Alexander turned to them all. Some men saluted with their rifles. "You may all come. Your general, Grant and I, need all of you."

"Hurrah!" they yelled.

Pauline typed in their destination: Pallet Town, and men crowded around them. "Prepare yourself Sir," she said to Grant. "You will fight a war that shall rival all others: before, now, and after today, or rather, before, during, and after 150 years from now, in the year 2011, in the town of Pallet, where not Johnnies and Yanks fight, but Hellenists and Federals."

4 months 2 weeks days into Operation Resurrect

Pallet Town California, 2:00 p.m

Macalli Brenter felt the bullet tear into his left arm. Blood ran down his already-exhausted frame, and he clamped the injured arm to his side. He reached for his pistol, but two shots greeted him. "You said that I couldn't shoot!" The voice. It was female. High. Nervous, but determined.

Brenter turned to face the voice. "Ema, you have cornered me. You have shot me. What will you do? Will you make me like Ashby? Will somebody invade upon your endeavor?"

"No. There is no Sam Colins or Megan Morison; but, there is a Cotton Malone, and like him, he will be here soon. I want to finish this." Ema cocked her gun and stared at him with cold eyes. "You know that yku only have three round s left." Brenter said bluntly.

She shrugged. "It does not matter. The gun is only for show, and for preliminaries."

"What do you mean?"

"This."

A rush of water knocked Brenter back. "What the hell?"

She smiled, lowered the gun, and tossed it aside. "I know pokemon moves. Hydro Pump. Strong and affective."

Brenter fired a shot at the ground before Ema. A stream of bubbles swept it out of harm's way. "Bubble Beam." she said as if telling him about the various moves pokemon could learn in a classroom instead of using them against him. She ran forward and turned into a blur. If what I have seen is right, Brenter thought, that is Quick Attack. He stepped aside only to find that a mass of flesh and bone met him and tackled him. He fired his gun a second time. It flew only inches away from Ema's chest. He cursed. How does she avoid a bullet? I aimed it squarely enough, and she avoided it, and she did it by lying on top of me too.

He figured out that using what he had been taught would nos he had to escape, and if help him. He had to escape, and, if possible, he had to eliminate Ema before the Cotton Malone of the League arrived. When Alexander arrived, he was doomed.

He fired his last bullet.

This one hit its mark.

Ema winced as Brenter's bullet struck her face. Blood trickled into her mouth. She held back her urge to vomit, and focused on Brenter. He had no bullets, only his dagger. I must do this right. If I am going to n" this, I must do it right.

She relinquished her hold on him, and as soon as she let go, Brenter whipped out the dagger. He stabbed at her chest, and she parried it. She used her other hand to grab his wrist. Even though he was experienced, as Ema had expected, Brenter dropped the weapon. As he bent to retrieve it, she elbowed his neck. He gagged and struck at whatever part of her he could reach. She dismissed the pain in her legs and kicked his chest.

He emerged from his stillness, using both hands to grab her foot. She fell on her back, head hitting the pavement.

She saw stars, but she applied her training. She wrenched her ankle and foot free and stood again. Brenter stood up too, holding his knife.

She turned her thoughts into the words that Alexander had shouted to her: "Block! Keep your blade close to your chest, and make your movements fast, crisp, and sharp."

No hands met. She could not grab Brenter's hilt, and he could not grab hers. Only blades met, each blow feeling harder hit than the last. She needed an opening, a place where she could strike the final blow. She could do it for as long as she needed, but she did not want to prolong this. She too did not want Alexander coming. This was her business. He must respect that she could fight her own fights and defeat her own foes.

At last, the opening came. She thrust her dagger past his arm, cutting it again, this time a deep gash. He clamped his arm to his side tighter, pinning it in place. She yanked it free and continued, and this time, he did not resist.

Brenter felt Ema's blade lacerate his arm, the one that was already injured. He pressed his arm against his side, holding the dagger in place.

Epa pulled it loose and lunged toward his chest.

The dagger disappeared. Ema held empty air, not a knife intent on slaughtering him.

He saw a sheen emit from Ema/s clenched fist. It formed the shape of her knife.

Pain followed. He shut his eyes and tried to clear the fog from his brain.

Nothing worked. He began to lose consciousness. No, that was not what he was losing. He began to feel tired and expectant. His body did not bound back.

A second knife of pain entered his mind. This pain was not physical, not exactly. He tried to focus on what it was, but the more he did, the more it hurt. "Yes, Macalli. You finally know what Antipater, Ema, Zeki, what they had all said about me."

He tried to reply. That voice. Who the Hades was that? "I know that you know who I am. Do not bother saying it. I know that you wanted to get rid of her. I knew that she wanted to get rid of you. I will allow her to do so. She can fight her own fights. Like or unlike Cotton Malone, I can let my officers and friends alone. I cannot do that for you."

"Alexander?"

A chuckle chilled him. He tried to ignore him. He could not ignore him. That voice got inside his head, invaded his thoughts. It exposed his weak points, showing which parts of his brain could pay attention to him. "Sad, is it not? You keep saying that you are trained to withstand psychological torture. If you can do so, show me." An expectant snicker followed.

You are imagining this, Brenter told himself. Ema can not know about this. She can not read my mind too. She is not that powerful.

"Actually, I can. I will not interfere. If the King wishes that you die, than I agree. You have sent brave Hellenic League soldiers to Hades, all without payment for Charon. Now, you will know how they felt."

"Ignore them. It will stop. I am serving my country, and that is all that matters."

A different voice intruded upon the three of them. "Even I admit that Robert E. Lee served his Johnnies better than you served your Yanks." It was an American voice. He saw an image before his inner eye: a man in a blue uniform, walking down a quiet Pallet Town street. "I know what it is like to serve in a war where artillery reigns down upon every square inch of the battlefield. I do not know how it is like to fight a war between pokemon with pistols, and trainers with mind control and the power to create fire from thin air."

"You are Ulysses S. Grant. You can't have allied yourself with these barbarians."

A wave of anger broke over their mental theater of war. A cold laugh filled their shared space. "You call _me a barbarian?"

"Your ancestors were herders who ran from the slightest battle."

"This comes from the man who stands behind an army of thousands, shouting to be brave, while not doing that himself. You have not led armies. I have led four armies."

The image in Brenter's mind changed. He saw a man, surrounded in yellow, white, and blue bolts of energy. He could feel the electricity cause his hair to stand up. The thrust of foreign thought redoubled its efforts, and he tried to block them with a swarm of random thoughts, which were all blasted aside.

He opened his eyes. Nothing had changed. He was not sure how he could open his eyes. He did not care. The gash had not killed him.

He saw the man, surrounded in power, Ulysses S. Grant, and Ema.

This was not a mental picture. This was real.

He stared at the trio. Ema stepped aside, and Grant lifted a repeat rifle from his holster.

"Macalli Alexander Brenter." the gun's owner said.

He started at the sound of his middle name. "How did you all know?"

Alexander spoke now. "How could I not? Your mind is not as protected as you think. Within the thoughts that you used to block me, that was present."

"What will you do: kill me?"

The generals nodded. "We will make it quick. One shot, one Thunderbolt, and you will be dead." said Grant.

Brenter glanced at Ema. Her eyes were filled with hate, pleasure, and satisfaction. "They will finish you much faster than I."

"I assume," Brenter told Grant, "that you know of my supposed crimes." Grant nodded. "I also suppose that you will not object to what this barbarian son of Zeus says?" Grant nodded again. "He has led more men than I have seen in battle. He has powers that God has given him for the purpose of serving his country and administering justice, no matter how it shall be administered. The Founding Fathers would be pleased, if not being a little disturbed."

Brenter sighed. He folded his hands before his chest. "Do what you may. As Lee has said, rather than surrender to you, he would "rather die a thousand deaths."

A single bullet fired into the man's chest, straight at his heart. A bolt of lightning loosed itself from Alexander's clenched fist. It wrapped itself around Brenter, squeezing the life from him. The snake of power entered his body: his eyes, mouth, nose, and ears, seeking energy. It pulled it out again, and it continued to burn him.

Brenter remained standing until he had been burned down to the bone. At last, he fell with a clatter.

Now, he was gone, not the League men.

Grant shouted "Hurrah!" Ema yelled, "At last, you are with the men who wanted you dead."

Alexander screamed "Alalalai!"

With that, the trio left the body to rot. He could not even be buried. The Founding Fathers, the Hellenic League, and the others who had fought here, had been given their payment. Forever.

Epilogue

1 month after Operation Resurrect

Pallet Town California

9:00 p.m

"What you doing?"

"Sire, please. I have the right to privacy as much as you do."

Alexander spread his hands. "Fine, but what you reading?"

"This is the theory that I wrote."

"The book one? What was it?"

"It's called the Author Bridge Theory. I finished it, but i deleted it soon after. Wonna read it?"

"Sure."

The Author Bridge Theory

1. Any and every written work that is not entirely nonfiction and which has been written down, by an author known or unknown, shall exist in a world, self-contained and separate from all others.

2. Whenever an author writes a story that is not all entirely nonfiction, they create this kind of universe. All of the events written, spoken, or otherwise mentioned in their story or series will happen. J. K. Rowling's books and their characters are within their own world, and all events which happened have occurred there.

3. When an author does not write, the inhabitants (people or otherwise) will repeat the so-far written events in their world until new material is added.

4. When a single book has been completed, and no sequel is necessary to story completion, then the world disappears. If a sequel is written at a later date, then all of the events in the whole book repeat until any part of the sequel is written. After this happens, the sequel's events are included in the repetition. The same happens to a whole book series.

5. If an author specifies that a world has different geography, laws of physics, or other characteristics that differ from the world that they exist in, then these things will happen in their world. Magic or any other technology, phenomena, or other occurrences that do not happen in the author's home world are included.

6. Somehow, if inhabitants of other worlds meet, then they are not limited by the laws of physics or any other physical, psychological, mental, or other limits of the world that they have visited unless they are specified. For example, if a person is not limited by gravity in their home world, then when they visit other worlds, then they are not limited by this unless there are precautions, rules, or natural laws set in place to prevent affects of this kind.

7. The world that I exist in: where dinosaurs are extinct, there are no ways so-far discovered to break the laws of physics, technological advances or setbacks that involve undiscovered or undeveloped technologies have not occurred, or any and every other limit or liberty that exists in books do not exist, is called the Central Universe. When referring to other worlds, it is named after either its main attribute, its habitants, or, in the case of books like Harry Potter, its most famous habitant.

8. If and when a person, creature, or any other being, intelligent in known ways or not, discovers a method to travel to other universes (such as worm holes, teleportation, or any other methods), then it can, with certainty, be used to transcend their world's borders and travel to, or bridge, worlds.

9. Inhabitants of worlds other than the Central Universe subconsciously know their author, their whereabouts, and what they are writing. Once they find out that they know this, they are able to act independently without their author's intervention. This may lead them to finding their author.

10. By the way, as a note of caution, most likely, whatever an author writes, he or she will have very, very little, if not no, control over who or what they have written.

"Is that all?"

"I meant to fine-tune it, but I never did. I became afraid of my theory, so I deleted it. I found it, and I modified it, and what you see is the most recent version."

"What you said about the inhabitants of worlds knowing their author is true. That was how I was able to find you."

"I only thought that this was some crazy talk."

Alexander laid a hand on Pauline's. "Maybe, it is not as crazy as you used to think."

Pauline and her friends had entered into service in the Hellenic League a month before, only hours after the battle of Time Bender was fought. With help from both presidents of the United States and Alexander, two cemeteries had been built: one outside of Orlando in front of the Time Bender Building, the other in Pallet. It was the third grave that had been built, the first two built in June and December of 2010 respectively.

"You know, at first, I thought that the Hellandric War had ended in June of 2010. Then, I changed my mind and talked about how it ended in December of last year. Now, well, for now, I feel that it ended today. The two executive branches signed the Pallet-District Act, which makes us allies. I only hope that it holds."

"I agree Sire." The phone rang. "Nika, I am with the King. We're talking about deep philosophical things. I'll let you know when I want to come over, or rather, the King will let you know."

"You ditched her to hang out with me?"

"For two and a half years, I ditched my normal life to hang out with you. I can do so for a few more minutes. Did you finish meeting with the Apple embassy?"

"Yes, yes I did. Cool guys. Name was Chris."

"I met an Apple person named Chris. He works with the Mac Books and the iPad."

"He was the head envoy. He allowed us to buy some computers and iPods and that kind of thing from them for half price for business or pleasure, whichever one we wanted. Both Apple companies are working together to try to get our technology to your world. You guys will be so advanced. You won't be as advanced as us though."

Pauline chuckled. "I know that Sire."

"Alexander." he corrected.

"Alexander. My world does not have pokemon either."

"That too will change soon. Professor Oak is trying to bring some species, you know like Pikachu and Charmander, to your national reserves. He is in charge of them too. He's gonna make sure that they are healthy. Maybe they will live with the normal animals. Maybe not. Only the gods know what will happen." Alexander laughed. ;Actually, all of the Greek gods are clueless of what will happen. Demeter is very annoyed. Says that the pokemon will ruin that part of her domain. A little mad to be honest."

"How is the Alexandrian Science Academy?"

"The ASA? Awesome. Ema is head of that. Their work is being taken seriously now. Your scientists are crediting us now. Same with the military. Your Air Force, Marines, and everyone else is training with our equipment. We will always be better however. That's just natural."

"True." The phone rang a second time. "Nika? You know that I was gonna call you saying that Pauline was coming over right?"

There was some snickers from Nika's end of the phone. "Sorry Alexander. We're all excited. They're showing some Companions on the History Channel. Adam Usnitch is here too, and he's filming right now. It's Rocky and Maria's episodes."

Alexander jumped up. "Okay. we're on our way."

He pulled pauline to her feet and flicked a hand. She felt at her clothes. "You put them on me?"

"Yeah. You didn't know that I could do that?"

"I knew Sire. Sorry. Let's go."

They ran out of the tent, men shouting to them. "How's it going?"

"Zeki, you should be drilling the 1st D.C Division."

"Yes Sire!"

"Alexander, Ptolemy lost his iPhone 4 again."

"How is that possible?"

"I don't know Alexander."

"Well now I'm getting lost."

"Good evening to you Alexander." A man in a blue chiton approached and joined them.

"Grant, whoa. That is a cool remake of that uniform. Brazion did a good job."

"Yes she did Sire. Where are you going?"

"Nika's house." said Pauline. "Want to come?"

"I am done filing my reports and leading the 7th Civil Division in drills."

"You can come."

As the trio approached Nika's house, they could hear laughter and loud music. Alexander cocked his ear to the sounds. "The result of our conquest,

we've come so far,

Is to stand on the shore of the world and we are.

So far unbeaten and your leader's unmatched,

Will you settle for the normal or one who has

Seen so much and who's proudly moved to a divine spot

Will you follow me or not?"

"What's that?" Pauline asked.

"The song Result. Written by Iskander the Epic, also known as Minondass, Aria, Aristander, and myself."

"You are in a band?" she shouted.

"Yes, yes I am. I can tell you about it some other time. Oh, it's Minondass's song now."

As they stepped onto the doorstep, Aria yanked the door open. Music came from behind her, and Pauline could hear singing.

"Is this a dream

Is this a sign from the Fates?

Does this really mean that I will do what Ketchum did?

I always knew that this would happen to us

No matter what people said.

I watched Diamond and Pearl

I play Black and White

Whatever my moves

I am always right

I've played all the games

I know all their names

But thank you falling fortune."

Once inside, everybody stood or sat around a long table. Everybody held a glass. Alexander stood and tapped his. "I would like to propose a toast." His officers and soldiers fell silent. "This toast shall include everything that has happened: during my time, the Civil War, the Renaissance, and every other time that the Hellenic League has had an influence. To war, to religion, to friends, to leaders, to glory."

"To war, to religion, so friends, to leaders, to glory!" the guests shouted, clinking glasses.

Aristander Telmizzen Esteron

Excerpt from _The _Amonniad, book seven

They all knew what he meant. War had caused the Hellenic League's formation and Calesthenes' fall. Religion made the acceptance of the Greek gods in both worlds possible. Olympian temples are being built in Pauline's home universe every day.

Friends: they were how Alexander found out about new recruits, hired officers, found contacts, and did other parts of the League's business. It made a bond that Alexander could reinforce with his own charisma and strength.

Leaders: everybody there had been complete strangers, and some were dissimilar to the point that they were polar opposites. Thanks to their king's effort, he had helped them coalesce into an army who could win any battle. Alexander himself had, in the past year, proved himself a valiant warrior, cunning politician, brilliant philosopher, and open-minded scholar. He had become more versatile than he was back during his own time.

Glory: that was what Alexander had fought for back in his original days. He had wanted fame, just like Achilles, and it had been given to him. After the second siege of Tyre, he had seen it himself. Half a year later, he saw it again. He saw that everybody, regardless of what universe they were from, knew him and recognized him, in a positive way or negative way, it did not matter. Glory had been given to his officers, from the EETA to the lowest private. They had all experienced what it was like to be their leader.

That had happened over the last year had impacted twelve billion people, as many pokemon, and 2000 years of history, not in one universe, but two. He could claim to rule an empire that was larger and more diverse than any other, even the Romans and British.

Lastly, Alexander had impacted his own life, especially his criminal record. He had been convicted of hundreds of armed robberies and assaults on police officers in his world, but all of the officers involved had been found guilty as they had all aimed a gun or thrown a pokeball at him only because he was Alexander the Great. Both judicial branches had worked together to clear his name and have all officers who had accused him of his false crimes arrested. That was what made Alexander and us most proud along with making the alliance. Now, Alexander will not be known as a criminal. At least until he commits more offenses.

Here and now, I end my account of the first year of the Hellenic League's history and the history of its leader, Alexander Alae Amon. My King has done so much during the past two years that I could not include it all here. I have written all that has been mentioned to the best of my ability and with the best information possible. If anyone finds any discrepancies anywhere within these pages, they have the right to call me a lying, fact-twisting barbarian. As for Alexander's accounts? I can say with absolute certainty that they are all fact. He does not desire to lie about his own campaigns, from 2000 years ago or from 2011. He wishes to make himself a new name, and this is part of doing that.

The treatise _The _Author _Bridge _Theory has been printed with Pauline Ugalde's permission. What she has said in this account is true as well.

You may ask: how do I feel at finishing this series? I cannot tell you, or rather, to put it another way, I do not need to tell you. Only look around you, and you will see Alexander's impact: he brought tea and sugar to Europe, indirectly causing the Tea Act, Boston Tea Party, the writing of the Declaration of Independence, American Revolution, and writing of the Constitution. He has brought Greek language, art, music, and science to us personally. He has brought pokemon to other worlds, worlds where new trainers can receive badges and ribbons.

What will happen after I lay down my pen? I do not know. Even the gods are holding their breath. As Alexander has said, "There are no more worlds to conquer." Actually, Sire, there were two worlds to conquer, and in the future, I can say with no doubt and with great resolution, that there will be many more worlds to conquer.