A/N Dustchu: Hello all, and welcome to Brothers in Arms Side story, Hellfire

Like with Red Sun this will be the only Author's note, why? *shrugs* I don't know. I may pop one in if I feel like it XD

Well, I hope ya'll enjoy ;) please R&R and stay frosty! :D

Also, music! After this little intro, play 'Here comes the Boom' the song from longest yard, that is a song I think fits this XD

Also thanks to my buddy and friend Soldier of the Future for beta reading this chapter and turning it into pure gold, thanks man! :D Go give him some love! he rocks!


After the war ended, the world was shattered… its ruined state transformed into nothing more than a hollow shell of its former self.

When everything 'settled down', Morph society started to build themselves up. They took over the cities that the humans had abandoned over the course of the war. Although many were renamed, some kept their original names.

Some families managed to start up small business or sorts that rapidly flourished with prosperity, due to the resources they controlled and what they controlled the production of.

The Lightfeathers, for example managed to establish small arms agreement with the Empire, trading what limited guns and ammo they produced in exchange for money and safety. The figurehead of the Lightfeather clan took advantage of the Empire's demand for resources and squeezed as much as he could out of them. This resulted in the organization quickly growing to the point of becoming the third most powerful in the arms industry in the later years to come.

Another example was the Evons. They manufactured a variety of products ranging from electronics to food to arms. They even possessed direct ties to the new government, establishing them as one of the most influential families on the whole continent.

And as time passed, Morphs eventually grew uninterested of the stale advertisements and bland broadcasting on television and wished for something more… thrilling. One Grumpig Morph by the name of Lucian Sadia came up with something that would eventually take the world by storm. It was a show that would not only capture the audience, but the content would have them on the edge of their seats writhing in suspense and excitement.

This show was called… Hellstorm.

Hellstorm was a show that was took place on the pre-war race tracks or specially built courses located on islands or the roads of abandoned cities. Sometimes they were populated and at others, they were not.

Every contestant, were they willing to compete or not, were given a car of their choice and placed in certain teams that would compete for one of the three spoils for the victors. One was money. The other was fame. The last was freedom.

This race was an extremely deadly one. The vehicles were armed with military grade weaponry such as chain guns, missile launchers, rocket propelled grenades, grenade launchers, and other exotic tools of destruction. The vehicles were complemented with heavy steel plates and in some cases, bulldozer-style blades and plows.

In the event that the racer got sneaky and attempted to use the vehicle to escape the death-inducing competition, there was a block of C4 attached and primed next to the gas tank which can be detonated via remote means.

It was a no holds barred race to the death. Ten would enter. Only one would leave.

Location: Fredrick Island penitentiary

Time: Morning

Pov: Third

"Yo man what the fuck!"

"Fuck off dickhead!"

"You first, you piece of shit!"

"That's it!"

Same old shit, yet a different day…

Another fight had broken out within the prison yards, but that was a relatively routine sight. For the current setting, at least.

A squad of Imperial Guards equipped with riot gear immediately took action, bringing their batons and shields to bear before descending upon and beating the inmates who retaliated.

The penitentiary was the largest in the area, being constructed on an island twenty miles in length and at least a hundred miles away from the mainland. The facility was massive, with cells that tunneled beneath the earth and enough security measures that would make a fully grown Charizard cry in fear.

The only way to embark upon and departing from the island was via maritime transportation. A massive ship called the Vendetta had just arrived, with a new slew of prisoners to impound within its fortified walls.

All of the prisoners were either arrested for crimes against the Empire, POW's caught, or just random people apprehended from the settlements.

They were all loaded onto buses, mainly with force and were required to sit down for an hour long drive to the prison.

No talking was allowed on the bus, lest you want to suffer punishment from the oppressive guards.

When they arrived, they were unloaded and put through processing, searched for any foreign objects such as weapons and drugs, and once they were through with the initial arrival checks, they were assigned a cell, where they would live out their sentence.

Fredrick Island penitentiary was possibly one of the worst prisons on Earth, able to hold up to almost a hundred thousand prisoners and personnel.

One bus had arrived and stopped at the entrance where a fully armed team of Imperials began to initiate a careful search, inch by inch for any stragglers or contraband. They had a soldier go under and investigate while two went through the bus checking the inmates. Most of the prisoners comprised of humans and some Pokemorphs of various sizes.

One human in particular sat at the very back, his clothes shredded and his body laden in sweat from the intense heat that turned the vehicle into an oven. His dull white hair matted with dirt and sweat and barely recognizable, his eyes were drooped slightly and his hands bound. His breathing was steady as he awaited his fate, "Death? Or turned into some toy for a feral Pokémon? Who knows…" he pondered as the bus started to move once more.

He raised his head and opened his eyes a bit, revealing dark grey eyes. Behind them, held a deep pain, one of failure…

He brought up his hand and wiped the window free of the dirt that covered it, feeling a grimy substance he grimaced but continued wiping it away until it cleared up, but not by much because it was still blurry. He managed to see the walls, and he once he did, he knew his fate was sealed.

The bus slowly went over some speed bumps, earning several groans from the passengers as they were woken up by the sudden jarring. They all looked around and once they felt the bus moving slowly, they knew their futures were beyond salvation.

The bus eventually came to a stop into the loading bay where about thirty other buses were parked and awaiting for disembarkation, most of them as filthy and unkempt as the bus that pulled in. They were covered grime, dirt, and sand from the beaches while some had bullet holes drilled in their sides.

The bus pulled into a bay where the driver, a Zangoose morph quickly turned the bus's iginition off and exited it as several heavily armed Morph in riot gear performed a head count, then started attacking the prisoners and making them get on their footing where they were ushered out of the vehicle and down some steps.

They walked in single file off the bus and forced to stop as several morphs chained them all up together using a steel chain and ankle cuffs.

After they were all secured with no chances of escaping, one guard each grabbed the prisoner's arms and held them up forcing the prisoners to bend over as they were ushered out of the bay. Their eyes were blindfolded, and a small metallic necklace was fitted around their necks. The purpose of those peculiar objects was to shock them should they get out of hand.

The corridor they were sent down was bland and had an unpleasant odor. There were a few lights here and there dimly lit and spilling light over floor of black cement, some vents pock marked the wall, the openings spewing grey gray smoke that quickly dissipated.

After taking about sixteen different paths and climbing up and down stairs, the prisoners arrived in a large room where they were processed. Names, photos, fingerprints, and blood samples were collected along with height and personal information. Finally, they were ushered out of the room and taken up some stairs and out into the prison yard.

It was a large clear courtyard with an area for working out and several courts. Some morphs were playing against the humans in a game of basketball, from which the morphs were winning.

The area's walls were elevated and built to withstand a full on invasion from the looks of it, the top of the walls had massive spikes jutting out from both ends, with some smaller spikes protruding out from the tips with electrified barbed wire. The walls were patrolled constantly by a special branch of security forces, all of them armed with high precision rifles and trained to kill without remorse or hesitation.

Their uniforms consisted of pitch-black clothing with a single number imprinted on the shoulder, a zero.

Houndooms patrolled with their Morph counterparts and were equally well-trained to obey a single command without questioning: attack.

Standing in the yard on the far side was a Morph, a female Pikachu. She was hidden in the shade from the wall when she saw the new blood that came in and eyed them all, "Poor sods, won't last a week in here." she muttered as another morph came up to her, a tall Charmander morph dressed in the same prison outfit that she was wearing.

"How much you want to bet they'll get fed to the Drigon?" he asked, leaning up against the wall with a smirk.

The Pikachu shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know, maybe they will survive. Who knows, maybe they'll be the new drivers."

"You honestly think a human can drive any better than a morph?" the inmate asked before he burst out laughing, "That's funny Sara, that's real funny."

The Pikachu, whose name was Sara smirked before commenting, "They don't have to be good, I just want something to blow up," she informed him as she left her fellow inmate be. She was headed to the pit.

Meanwhile with the prisoners, they were brought to the holding area where they were stripped of their current clothing and forced through a screening, metal detector and a full body exam before given prison jumpsuits and brought to one of the prison blocks.

They paced slowly down the stairs, and then across a walkway before being brought to a large industrial sized elevator. It was sizable enough to fit at least forty people.

When the prisoners looked down they saw nothing but darkness below, the faint sounds of heavy machinery and tools could be heard.

The male human prisoner with dull white hair could smell both oil and gasoline coming from the darkness below. "What is down there…?" he wondered, from the sounds he could hear it sounded like they were building something, were the new inmates being used a slave labor? He wouldn't be surprised.

The head guard hit a button causing several large gears to start turning and the elevator started to descend, the prisoners all had somewhat fearful expressions as they were lowered into the dark abyss that was about to consume them.

There was no telling what awaited them down below.

The white-haired prisoner listened to the sounds from below. It didn't sound like a torture chamber of some sort. No one was screaming, at least for now. "Where are we going?" he asked.

The head guard's response was a gesture of smacking him in the head with a baton. This instantly silenced the human as he made no noise and kept staring into the darkness. "Shut your mouth human, you'll find out soon enough," he sneered cruelly

The human sighed softly. He feared that whatever was down there was definitely going to be anything but good.