Hello, readers! Been a little while, huh? So I was looking through some of my old works, and I decided that there was one in particular that I've always wanted to come back to and rewrite. That work is none other than Rise of the Sinnoh Saviors, a superhero-style story that stars Mira, Riley, and the rest of the Stat Trainers as they fight to reclaim their home from a beefed-up Team Galactic. I stopped writing it after Chapter 7 because I really didn't like how I had essentially written myself into a corner by splitting up Mira, Riley, and Cheryl from each other so soon. It's hard to explain, but I really just didn't like it and I feel like the tone got maybe too dark at times.

I'll still leave RSS posted so anyone who's interested can check it out, but it's more or less been relegated to collect dust on my proverbial shelf. That being said, I hope I'm able to do this story justice (heh) this time around. As always, I greatly encourage you, the readers, to leave feedback. It can be anything from general thoughts, opinions, questions, comments, concerns, and especially constructive criticism. This allows me to really grow and improve as a writer, and this can only mean that I'll be able to put out higher-quality works. As always, let me know what works, what doesn't, all that good stuff!

Also, don't worry; So Glad You're Safe is still alive and well, this is just something a little different that I've been meaning to try out. Now that school's out, I should be able to update that more frequently as well. Fun!


It was 9:30 PM in the Sinnoh region, and the Battleground café located in the Battle Zone was full of the usual patrons at this time: drinkers, gamblers, homeless people taking shelter from the rain, and a man in a brown trench coat. The man sat at a table in the corner of the dimly-lit bar, sipping his drink every now and then as he listened to the pianist's melancholic tune. About five minutes had passed before a younger man in blue entered the establishment, wearing a fancy suit with a hat to match. The second man walked up to the counter and ordered a drink before the first walked up to him.

"Good afternoon, sir," the trench coat man greeted in an odd voice. "I take it you received my letter?"

"It's nighttime," the man in blue chuckled. "I recall receiving a letter, but it could have been from anyone really. The only signature I could find on it was from someone named 'l00k3r'-"

"Shhh!" The strange man shushed his companion rather loudly. "Do you want to cause a scene!?"

Every patron in the café briefly stopped what they were doing to stare at the odd pair, with some audible mumbling here and there.

"Not sure, seems like you're much better suited to that task than I am..."

"We've no time for japes, sir. Follow me into the backroom at once."

Before the younger man could say anything, "l00k3r" had already begun walking to the back of the bar, opening a door and covertly motioning for him to follow. Fortunately, most of the patrons had already gone back to what they were doing. Once both men had made their way through the door, the man designated "l00k3r" closed it and gestured for the younger man to sit with him at a lone table in the room. There sat a tall blonde woman dressed in black, a wide-brimmed hat concealing her eyes.

"So nice of you to join us tonight, Riley."

"... How do you know my name?" Riley inquired, eying the woman cautiously. "... Who are you, really?"

"Riley, I'm hurt," the blonde woman gasped with a hand to her heart, feigning offense. Lifting her head so the gray of her eye was visible, she continued, "Surely you haven't forgotten about little miss Cynthia, now have you?"

"C-Cynthia!?" Riley blurted, utterly shocked. "As in… the currently reigning champion of Sinnoh? The Cynthia!?"

"Sir, I implore you," "l00k3r" pleaded with Riley, "it is imperative that you do not raise your voice."

Cynthia chuckled. "It's quite alright, Looker. I know the owner of this establishment quite well; these walls are as soundproof as a Whismur."

Turning to Riley, she continued, "Please, sit with us. There is much we need to discuss."

Nodding hesitantly, Riley made his way over to the table with Looker and both men sat down. Riley couldn't believe what was happening; he was actually in the presence of the Sinnoh League Champion herself! But… what could she want with him? More to the point, how did she even know his name?

"I know what you're thinking, and the answer is simple; the League has been keeping our eyes on you for quite some time now, Riley," Cynthia said, pouring everyone a drink. Looker graciously accepted the beverage while Riley politely refused his. "Surely you must know by now of the atrocities of Team Galactic?"

Riley shook his head. "In truth, I've mostly kept to myself on Iron Island. I'm not one for television either, so I haven't really been able to keep up with the news."

Cynthia's eye narrowed as she sipped her drink. "I see. Then it is up to Looker and I to fill you in on the details. Looker, if you will."

Looker nodded, downing the last of his drink before procuring a piece of paper from his trench coat. Riley eyed the man suspiciously as Looker began to read.

"For years, Sinnoh had been regarded as a peaceful region; the land is vast and diverse, but we've generally never had much in the way of illegal activity. Trainers young and old alike were able to live and work freely alongside their beloved partners without fear, and all was as it should have been.

Naturally, it wouldn't be long before someone went and ruined things for everyone. This someone in particular was none other than Cyrus, the Supreme Leader of Team Galactic. Once a young boy with a penchant for building and operating machinery, his life was changed forever when his grandparents were killed by one of his robotic creations. Accounts vary on whether or not it was intentional; the one thing everyone can agree on is that, following these events, Cyrus ran away from his home in Sunyshore City and started up a street gang that would one day evolve into the monstrosity that is Team Galactic.

Team Galactic had started out harmless enough; they mostly just committed petty theft and were promptly beaten back into the shadows by young Pokémon trainers. As Team Galactic rose in numbers, however, they resorted to more cruel and deadly means of battling. Many of their "acquired" Pokémon had been horribly experimented on, some having all of their powers stripped from them. It was even rumored that some higher ranking members of Team Galactic had somehow managed to transfer those powers into themselves. We're not really sure what their endgame is - what Cyrus has planned in the grand scheme of things - but it can't be good. All is not lost, however. You see, there have been rumors of humans being born with strange powers thought only to exist in Pokémon; others are said to have acquired them at later parts of their lives. We have reason to believe that you, Mr. Riley, are one of those special individuals."

"Goodness, that was a hefty amount of exposition," Looker huffed, sinking back into his seat and pouring himself another glass. "I apologize, but I need this."

"My god… I had no idea things were this dire," Riley spoke quietly, his brow furrowed as he closed his eyes. "Granted, I don't believe I've encountered them more than once or twice, but..."

"In truth, we at the League considered them a nuisance at the absolute worst. How wrong we were," Cynthia spat, glaring down at the table. "I still consider it my greatest mistake that I did not personally put an end to Team Galactic's plans before they grew in number and power. I'm a failure to my people…"

"Miss Cynthia, please," Looker begged. "You could not have possibly known they would become this heinous! Do not blame yourself."

Riley nodded firmly, folding his arms. "He's right. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, and it's not like you had the power of precognition on your side."

Cynthia smiled sadly. "I appreciate your kind words, both of you, but this is still partially my fault. Even with my Pokémon behind me and my own abilities, I'm still not strong enough to face an army. Hence why I must gather strong allies to aid the League in its quest for justice."

"Understandable, but… why me in particular? I'm not a trainer anymore, and I certainly don't have any special powers or anything of the sort," Riley argued, standing from his seat to leave. "I'm just a regular guy with strange taste in clothing, alright?"

"That's not true and we both know it," Cynthia retorted, a slight edge to her voice. By now, Looker had ingested a few too many glasses of Cheru-Beer and was slumped over in his chair, snoring peacefully.

Standing herself, the tall blonde Champion pressed on. "I know of your inner pain, Riley. Believe me, nothing hurts more than losing a partner-"

"What could you possibly know about me!?" Riley barked, losing his composure. "I… I don't know what you're talking about…"

"Oh, Riley," Cynthia sighed wistfully, "you can't hide it from me. The pain of losing your Lucario… the guilt you feel…"

"That's enough," Riley shook his head, walking to the door. "I don't know how you got that information, but… I don't want to talk about this anymore. And I'm not a 'special' or 'superhero' or anything like that, so don't come to me about joining your little club anymore, okay?"

"But, Riley-"

"No. I… I'm sorry, Champion Cynthia," Riley apologized sincerely, opening the door that led back to the bar, "but I just can't be the hero you want me to be."

Riley didn't get very far into the Battleground's main room before he was greeted by a very unusual sight. The bar had been almost entirely vacated. The only other people present were the nervous bartender and five angry-looking men in bizarre spacesuits and even more bizarre teal haircuts. Riley could see that the men were conversing with the poor bartender, blunt weapons in hand.

"We ain't askin' ya, we're tellin' ya," one of them threatened, pointing a crowbar at the man's face. "Where. Is. Cynthia!"

"H-how should I know!? She never frequents this place," the bartender answered quickly. "E-e-especially not during Happy Hour, which DEFINITELY isn't around this time of night!"

One of the grunts seemed satisfied with this response. "Well, I mean, he did say that it's not Happy Hour, right? So that must mean…"

"... Drinks are at full price?" Another grunt spoke up.

"NO, you idiots!" The tallest of the five roared, unamused with his coworkers' stupidity. "It means we got a dirty LIAR over here! And you all know what the big boss does to liars! Let's tear out his-"

"Woah, woah, woah," Riley spoke coolly, trying to keep his temper in check. "Let's not lose our heads, alright? I'm sure this is just a big misunderstandin-"

The man in blue couldn't even finish his sentence before one of the grunts swung at him, striking him over the head and knocking him to the floor. As Riley tried to refocus his vision, he could hear the grunts laughing at him. A primal rage began to rise in the man, and Riley rose to his feet with a roar as he turned around and struck the nearest grunt in the chest with a flaming blue fist. The grunt was sent sliding across the bar counter, knocking all of the glasses off in the process, before falling off the side. The other four grunts were none too amused.

"Holy shit, he's one of them freaks!"

"Ice the bastard!"

Riley smirked to himself. Swearing; now he knew he was in for it. Riley barely had any time to think before all four standing grunts came rushing at him, baseball bats and crowbars in hand. As the first swung, Riley stepped off to the side and delivered a hard stomp to the man's left knee, sending him to the floor. Riley ducked the next swing before grabbing the arm holding the weapon and twisting it behind the grunt's back, making him scream in pain as he dropped his bat. The last two grunts both swung their weapons simultaneously and Riley lifted the second grunt in front of him, his skull absorbing both hits. Dropping the unconscious man, the blue bruiser lunged towards both grunts with his arms outstretched and his fists clenched, striking them both in the neck and flooring them.

"D-damnit," one grunt coughed, "the hell does this guy eat!?"

"I told you we shouldn't have left our Pokémon back at base, but noooo!"

"Well? Come on then!" Riley challenged, not even noticing that his head had begun to bleed. "Don't start what you can't finish!"

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Cynthia had peeked her head outside of the secret door and was watching him with a satisfied smile on her face.

"He's j-just one guy," another grunt spat as he rose to his feet, no longer holding a weapon. "I… I'll waste you myself!"

With a roar, the brave grunt sprawled towards Riley with his fist raised high above his head. Riley effortlessly grabbed the man's wrist and kicked him hard in the stomach. The grunt sharply exhaled, the air leaving his lungs as he sank to his knees. Riley grabbed the man by the throat with his left hand and balled his right hand into a fist, his aura gathering into it and burning a bright blue. Riley had never been in such a brawl before, and he was still angry about what Cynthia had said before; it was no small wonder that his powers were flaring up at the moment.

"Riley…"

Turning his head to face Cynthia, he could see that she was still looking at him. He wasn't able to pinpoint her emotions at the moment; gratitude, pride… pity? Riley looked back at the grunt in his grasp, blue in the face and grasping Riley's wrist with both hands in desperation.

"You know," Riley began, once again calm, "you're right. I am just one guy."

To everyone's surprise, Riley's right hand stopped glowing as he released the grunt. The grunt in question grasped his neck in pain and scrambled to the side of the other four, the last of which had recently gotten back up.

"Get out of here before I change my mind."

"Y-you'll pay for this," one grunt threatened, making a hasty retreat from the bar with his friends. Riley sighed and sat in the nearest chair by the counter, putting his head down. He could patch himself up later; right now he just needed to rest.

Cynthia, meanwhile, sat by his side and took his hat off, examining the wound. He was indeed bleeding, though probably not enough to kill him. Regardless, Cynthia would have to deal with him herself. She couldn't just leave her potential savior alone and injured, after all.

"Barkeep," she called, getting the hiding bartender's attention. "I apologize for the mess. I will gladly pay for the damages as long as you promise that we were never here. Understood?"

"Y-you got it, Miss Champion," he nodded hastily, examining the state of the establishment.

"Thank you," Cynthia said with a sweet smile. "I feel sorry for Flint and his brother, but I think I know how to make it up to them…"

"Goodness… what have I missed?" Looker yawned, having recently awakened from his alcohol-induced slumber. "This place is certainly in disarray…"

"Ready the jeep, Looker," Cynthia ordered immediately. "We need to take Riley to the nearest Pokémon Center at once."

"I was unaware that the center for Pokémon also attended to human injuries!" Looker exclaimed, genuinely surprised. "Sinnoh is certainly full of wonder!"

"Looker…"

"Ah, yes! To the Leaguemobile!"

"Nobody calls it that, Looker. It's just a jeep."

"Right... to the jeep, then!"

Cynthia sighed as her strange Interpol friend left the building, turning her attention back to the now unconscious Riley. "Perhaps it was wrong of me to peer into his mind like that… I only wanted him to see that he could still use his powers for good…"

Pressing a napkin to the bloody spot on Riley's head, she smiled somberly as Looker came back into the bar with a stretcher. Helping load Riley's body onto the carrier, she placed his hat on his chest before lifting one side, Looker lifting the other. As Cynthia peered into the deep within the recesses of Riley's resting mind to make sure he was still alright, only one thing could be heard.

"F...i… Mi...r...a…"