A.N.: Welcome to my first pokémon story! I've read a few realistic pokémon AUs and loved them, and was inspired to write something in the same vein. It takes place in gameverse Unova though the plot doesn't really follow canon and there are a few original elements to it? Hope you like it.
Prologue
A hero's life; a villain's death
Some humans share a bond with pokémon that the rest of us struggle to understand. They can connect on a level beyond the emotional, into the psychic and spiritual. They bring out the full potential of their pokémon partners, training them to the pinnacle of their species and beyond. Throughout the ages, those with the rare gift known as the Touch have risen to positions of great fame and power.
But their gift is not the only special thing about them. Those who are Touched have a destiny, a purpose: to awaken and bond with a particular pokémon. One of the Ancients, the forgotten beings who forged our world during the Lost Era.
Reshiram is one of the Ancients, and N is his chosen, that much is true. But Reshiram is not the only legend whose awakening is near.
You're Touched, too - you are the one destined to awaken Reshiram's twin, Zekrom.
Touko dove and landed on her shoulder, grunting. Heat washed over her back as the vortex of fire whooshed above her, but her armour protected her from the worst of it, and she rolled to her feet.
She hadn't even been the target of the Flamethrower attack, she'd just been in the way. The flames continued along their intended path and engulfed a Galvantula and the rider mounted on it - one of Burgh's gym trainers. The giant spider reared, screeching in pain, catapulting the trainer off, and the woman landed screaming and thrashing on the ground.
After only a few seconds, the screaming stopped, and trainer and pokémon were a motionless pile of flames. The stench of cooked flesh brought tears to Touko's eyes.
The enemy Heatmor that had spat out the Flamethrower grunted and straightened, licks of fire sparking around its mouth. The trainer commanding it, a young man in Team Plasma's grey armour, scanned the battlefield for his next target. His eyes landed on Touko.
Shit.
"Emolga!"
Before the Plasma could react, Emolga emerged from her pokéball and burst with electricity that zapped Heatmor across the side. Touko clipped the empty pokéball back to her belt, palmed her knife and rushed in. She'd never battled a Heatmor, but she hoped it was as slow as it looked.
Heatmor spun at the last moment. The tip of Touko's knife drew a thin red line on the beast's striped belly, but its hide was too thick to be penetrated with mere human strength. Its triangular claw swung around and clipped her in the jaw, making her see stars. She reeled back as the taste of metal flooded her mouth.
"Fire Lash! Rip her apart!" The Plasma shouted from behind Heatmor, where he stood safely out of harm's way. Like most trainers, he was used to a certain way of battling where pokémon did most of the work. It was the legacy of peacetime, of regulation matches with rules, limitations and safety nets. Even Team Plasma, with all their preaching about equality, hadn't quite got rid of the habit.
Heatmor's fiery tongue shot out; Touko lifted her arm and it wrapped around her armguard, melting leather and metal down to the skin. Pain seared up to her elbow, but it only lasted a second as Emolga fell like a bullet from the sky and slammed into Heatmor's side. Knocked off-balance, Heatmor screeched and retracted its tongue.
"Fry that squirrel!" the Plasma ordered.
"Double Team!" Touko hissed through the pain.
Emolga landed on the ground, then took to the air again just in time to avoid getting incinerated. Touko moved away, taking advantage of the distraction. Both Heatmor and the Plasma were ignoring her in favour of her pokémon. They had fallen into the patterns and roles they were familiar with, but this was not a regulation match; this was war, and to focus only on the pokémon was a deadly mistake.
She ran at the Plasma, knife held low and close to her body. He wouldn't see her coming, but Heatmor with its superior instincts was a different story. Emolga's timing had to be perfect - and it would be. Unlike most people, Touko's idea of training involved fighting alongside her pokémon, improving her own skill in battle as much as she was her allies'. This combination in particular was one she and Emolga had used often in the wild.
She closed the distance to the Plasma and drove her knife under his armpit, between the plates of his armour, up into his lung. Her victim's face was illuminated by Emolga's Flash, a frozen snapshot of a startled expression. Pupils narrowed in pain, mouth twisted into a grimace, the bony prominences of his cheekbones highlighted like a skull's. The flash faded, and with it, his cheeks rounded out and his eyes regained their color. Younger than her. Much younger. A teenager. The realization caused her grip on the knife to slacken.
"You won't win," the boy wheezed. "The King…" He coughed, blood and spittle landing on Touko's cheek. "The King is invincible."
A child. Hands trembling, she withdrew the knife and slashed across his throat. His body slumped to the ground, where he lay staring up at the sky with glassy eyes.
Her stomach roiled with nausea.
A child.
He died for you, N.
Heatmor's furious roar snapped her out of her daze as instinct kicked in again. Emolga's Flash had momentarily blinded it, but now it was out for revenge. She spun around and got ready to deal with the pokémon - dangerous for its anger, but easier to outsmart now that it lacked a partner to direct it.
There is no time to stop and think in war. There are no nurses with Chansey standing at the ready to heal your pokémon in between rounds. There are no managers shoving files in your face with information about your next opponent. There is no opportunity to strategize as one fight is followed by the next - and the next and the next, sometimes simultaneously.
It is exhausting, each encounter wringing you dry until you think you have no more left to give - only to discover that yes, yes you do, when the only other options are death or surrender. But at the same time -
At the same time, when you can't plan ahead around an opponent's known weakness, when decisions are made in the heat of battle with nothing informing them but instinct, that's when a trainer's worth truly shines. Touko had enjoyed the championships, but there was always something calculated about them, something controlled and fake. War is raw, the essence of battling stripped down to the bones. Emolga and her move like a single entity, tearing through the battlefield like a red-hot knife. There is a primal awareness in her that knows what to do, old and buried, and she lets it guide her.
She hates the killing, but she doesn't hesitate. If she hesitates, she will lose; and if she loses, her allies will pay the price.
"Cheren!"
He looked strange without his glasses, dusty and sweaty with his dark bangs clinging to his forehead. There were lines of strain around his eyes, reflecting the grim determination Touko felt, and a dark blood patch in his armour just above the knee. A far cry from his usual neat, well-groomed self, but at least he was still standing.
"Touko. You're here."
She'd made her way inside the castle after fighting through the courtyard, and found him in a hallway littered with rubble. Off to the side, Cheren's Serperior was taking small bites out of a Marill carcass, while a few yards away a human-shaped corpse lay on the ground, shriveled and shrunken like someone had sucked all the water out of it.
Touko averted her eyes. "Yeah. Glad you're alright."
"I wouldn't be if not for Clay and his trainers. They pulled me out of a tight spot back in the caves." He glanced at the snacking Serperior and sighed, reaching up to his face as if to push back his glasses. He realized he wasn't wearing them and lowered his hand. "Where's the rest of Team Zekrom? Weren't they supposed to be with you?"
"We got separated outside." Team Zekrom's mission had been to escort her through the battlefield until she reached N. But in the chaos of the fighting, she had lost them. "It doesn't change the plan. I have to find N. It's the only way to end this."
"Agreed. I've been all over this floor, and he's not here. He must be further up."
Cheren recalled Serperior and they continued through the castle together. It was a majestic building built for comfort as well as defense, with elegant architecture and statues lining the hallways. Originally home to the Elite Four, N's forces had captured it a month ago to use it as a base of operations from which to plan their invasion of the rest of Unova. Even with the cracked marble floors and the sculptures damaged by the battle, it conserved its appearance of grandeur.
Touko and Cheren tried to avoid the fighting, sticking to the empty side corridors as they searched for a way up. They were forced to stop when they turned a corner to find two women kneeling on the ground.
There was a body lying between them that wore Team Plasma armour, and the women seemed to be pressing down on the soldier's chest. They had no pokémon with them or pokéballs that Touko could see. The corridor around them was littered with rubble, but there were no combatants nearby.
"What are civilians doing here?" Cheren muttered. "Hey, you!"
One of the women stood to face them as they approached. She had long blonde hair and fine, feminine features, arranged in a pleasant expression. Her polite smile didn't waver even when Emolga growled in warning from her perch on Touko's shoulder.
Cheren took a step forward. "Who are you? What are you doing?"
"My name is Concordia," said the blonde. She spoke calmly, exuding an aura of serenity that was almost eerie, given the circumstances. It struck Touko as familiar, though she was sure she'd never met the woman before. "This is Anthea, my sister. We're trying to save this man's life." Touko leaned to the side to get a good look at the other civilian. A woman of a similar age, with pale ginger hair. She was pressing down on the Plasma soldier's chest, trying to stem his bleeding wounds, her arms stained red to the elbow. The soldier moaned in pain but didn't open his eyes.
"You're with Team Plasma." Cheren took another step forward.
Touko stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Wait."
"Have you seen them? They're not denying it," Cheren hissed. Concordia's expression didn't shift, and she didn't try to speak. Her sister, ignoring the two enemy trainers as if they didn't exist, retrieved a vial of blue liquid from her bag and coaxed the soldier into drinking it with gentle words.
"You're healing the wounded?" asked Touko.
"Yes," replied Concordia. Her soft, melodious accent sent a shiver down Touko's spine, and she realized why it was so familiar - it was the same accent and the same ethereal calm that had always enveloped N. "Human and pokémon alike. If we hadn't gotten to this one when we did, he'd already be dead. We do what we can." Quietly, she added, "We try to save yours, too."
The speech pattern was the same as well. She must be related to N in a closer way than that of a simple follower. Both of them. The similarities were too obvious.
Touko nodded slowly and turned on her heel, leaving them there.
Cheren caught up to her, frowning. "Sparing them is a mistake. At the very least, the trainer-"
"He won't be fighting again in his state. Those two women are unarmed, risking their lives on a battlefield to save as many people as they can. I won't let this war turn us into monsters."
Cheren sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He'd always hated leaving loose ends, but Touko knew where she drew the line, and harming defenseless civilians crossed it.
"If this comes back to bite us in the ass later, I'm blaming you," Cheren grumbled.
"Hero of Unova," Concordia called.
Touko froze. Cheren whirled around.
Concordia hadn't moved, her hands clasped together in front of her body, her pale dress fluttering in the nonexistent breeze. "The stairs up to the Twilight Tower are that way. He's waiting in the throne room."
Touko started walking again. After a second of hesitation, Cheren followed silently.
At first glance the windowless room appeared empty. It was dark, having no windows, and Touko blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Another set of stairs at the back continued the climb up. She walked towards them, but she'd only taken one step when Emolga tensed on her shoulder.
Three shadowy shapes detached themselves from the wall, sleek and smooth like liquid. They slid into position in front of the stairs, blocking her way. More wraith than human, they all had the same bone-white hair and sunken dead eyes, and all wore masks that covered the lower half of their faces. Black armour crawled over every inch of their skin. They didn't speak. They rarely did, preferring to let their poison-drenched blades speak for them.
"The Shadow Triad," Touko hissed.
They were infamous throughout Unova as N's personal bodyguards and assassins, three powerful trainers as merciless and lethal as the Dark-type pokémon they commanded. Touko's most recent encounter with them had involved waking up at midnight with a knife pressed to her throat and a cold whisper in her ear promising to flay her alive. They had spared her back then, but she had a feeling today their orders were different.
Cheren stepped in front of her. "I can do this alone. You've got bigger fish to fry."
The Triad's pokémon emerged from the shadows in the same manner as their masters. Two Bisharp dropped from the ceiling into a crouch without so much as a whisper; Touko spotted a third one in the corner of the room, its scythes glinting in the darkness.
Behind the Triad, a larger shape emerged, a canine taller than a human, with a crescent-shaped horn on its head. Its eyes glowed a demonic red. Absol. She'd heard of the species, but never actually faced one. They were extremely rare even in their native Hoenn, where they were believed to be bringers of disaster and calamity.
Cheren was good, but he couldn't take them alone. "I'm not leaving you behind. We'll fight together."
"You can't afford to spend your pokémon's strength here. You still have to deal with N."
Touko hesitated.
"Go," Cheren insisted. He was watching Absol, occasionally glancing at the Bisharp in the corner. "It has to be you. You're the strongest trainer in Unova. I'd only get in your way."
Although she'd been told that before, it was the first time she heard the compliment from Cheren. He'd always been too proud to admit out loud that she was better than him. She saw him in that moment, really saw him; decisive and unmovable, and the way his body tensed, already strategizing.
"Zekrom hasn't awakened."
"It doesn't matter. Zekrom or not, you're the only one that can beat him. I've got this, trust me."
Objective-focused, so good at prioritizing. He knew what was important and what was necessary to achieve it. But more than that, he was a great trainer in his own right. The Triad were fearsome opponents, but she had to trust him the way he trusted her. If she could beat N, he could take his bodyguards. "I'll give you an opening. When you're done here you're coming to help me with the dragon."
"Or you finish first, and come help me down here."
"Race you?"
His weight shifted, the ghost of a smirk shaping his lips. "It's on."
The Triad and their pokémon were still, waiting for them to make the first move. Touko ran straight at them. When Absol growled and jumped to meet her, she threw her arm over her eyes. "Flash!"
The back of her eyelids burned red as Emolga jumped from her shoulder and erupted in blinding light. Touko crossed the room and raced up the stairs without so much as a look back.
"I never wanted this."
N stood alone against the windows of coloured glass at the back of the throne room. The blue and green and red fragments of glass formed a jigsaw of patterns within patterns, and the multicoloured light wove around his dark silhouette like a kaleidoscope and traced jagged reflections on the stone floor. It was a beautiful thing to see after so much death and violence.
He wore his usual civilian clothes, the white jacket and cap, and showed no signs of having engaged in battle. He'd been watching from up here the whole time while the people below died. It should have made her angry, but it didn't.
"I didn't want a war. I wanted to do it without violence. I thought the Elite Four would cooperate, I thought I could make them understand. With them on my side, the rest of Unova would follow peacefully. I tried to convince them. I even offered a compromise… But they still would not agree. It's all because of you."
Touko's hand had been inching towards her pokéball belt, but his accusation caught her off-guard. "What?"
N turned. His usually serene grey eyes were hard. "They thought you would awaken Zekrom. The only reason they opposed me was because they believed you could win. Do you understand? The Elite Four, the gym Leaders, everyone believes you're chosen by destiny as I am, the only one that can match me. Even I was convinced. It was part of the formula; to change the world, first I had to defeat you."
His words were sharp, and his voice, though quiet, reverberated like a thousand furious whispers in the empty room. Something was off. He was different from the last time she saw him. He radiated a quiet intensity that chilled her insides.
"But you're not!" he snapped. "I was wrong. I gave you the time and the means, and despite that you haven't awakened Zekrom. And if you can't stop me, no one can! Why, then, all this fighting, all this pointless suffering?"
She see an aura behind him, rising from his shoulders like a coat of white flames.
Whatever summoning Reshiram had done to him, it had turned him into something more than a mere human. Something other.
The Dark Stone lay dormant in her pocket, dull and lifeless, as it had been since she recovered it from the Relic Castle. Maybe it wasn't the right stone, or maybe Zekrom didn't exist, or maybe Alder was wrong and she wasn't N's equal. Maybe she wasn't the second Hero of Unova.
It didn't make a difference. He had to be stopped. And despite the war, despite the people she'd seen die and killed with her own hands in the last few hours, a thrill ran through her. That forgotten instinct was rising up again; she was born for this.
"People and pokémon love each other, we need each other, and for as long as you're trying to break that bond, we will never stop fighting you."
"The bond hurts pokémon!" He took a deep breath. "We never have agreed and I see now that we never will. But at this point, it doesn't even matter. You only have two options, Touko. You can stay and fight a hopeless battle. You'll fail, and I'll win this war anyway. Or you can turn around, tell your armies to surrender. Accept my vision. The end result will be the same, but you'll live." Then, softly, "I don't want to hurt you."
She remembered him as he was then, in Accumula, younger and more open and wanting to learn about the world. For all his intelligence and curiosity, there were many things he'd never understood, and the bond between people and pokémon was one of them.
Touko released all her pokémon at once. A sleek Leavanny, fragile but deadly, who sharpened her leafy scythes against each other in preparation. Gigalith, a giant of blue rock, Touko's largest and toughest pokémon, virtually indestructible. Red veins of hardened quartz ran through her body, coalescing in razor-sharp crystals at her shoulders and head. Reuniclus, Touko's Psychic, hovered at her back. He was the only one of her pokémon who did not like battling - but was willing to do so, to protect her. And finally, Samurott, her first and oldest partner, a veteran of a thousand battles whose blue fur was criss-crossed with scars. He lowered his head, pointing his horn at N in challenge.
Emolga jumped from Touko's shoulder and landed on Samurott's back, not wanting to be left out.
Very few people ever trained more than one or two pokémon at a time. Bringing up a team of five to their last evolutionary stages was unheard of, but she wasn't called the best in Unova for nothing. Touko grinned, the weariness in her bones fading away as her pokémon's battlelust infected her veins. Save for Emolga, she'd avoided using them in the fighting, conserving their energy for precisely this moment. "We'll take the hopeless battle, thank you."
N lowered his head, his cap hiding his expression. "So be it. You have all chosen your fate." He thrust his arm out to the side. "Reshiram!"
The glass windows behind him exploded in a waterfall of light and coloured shards. Cracks spread through the ceiling, and rocks fell as one half of the room collapsed.
Touko covered her face. When the dust had settled, she looked up.
Reshiram's body took up the entirety of the newly-cleared space. His pure white scales shone periwinkle when they caught the last rays of the twilight sun. Two magnificent white wings extended from its back, their shadow curving over the throne room. Its mane was a flare of white flames, flames that ran in rivulets along its body and coalesced in its tail, where scaly ribbons of flesh generated more white fire.
The fighting in the courtyard and the walls below paused as, like Touko, trainers of Unova and Plasma soldiers alike froze at the sight of the legendary dragon perched at the top of the castle. The entire battlefield held its breath.
"Full power! Show him what we're made of!"
Wott braced himself and spat out a Hydro Canon. Emolga shot out her own Thunderbolt, the electricity merging with the torrent of water and lighting it up with a bright blue glow. Leavanny took a moment to absorb the last rays of the setting sun and added to the powerful combination with its own Solar Beam, and the combined attack headed straight for the dragon's chest.
In return Reshiram spat out a purple beam of draconian energy from its mouth. The two beams met in the middle, equal in power at first, until the Dragon Breath slowly started inching forwards.
Not enough.
Touko pointed at Reshiram, palm down. "Gravity!"
Like a puppet on strings, Reuniclus mimicked the motion with a gelatinous appendage. The power of the Dragon Breath waned as the dragon's muscles fought against the invisible force trying to flatten it to the ground.
"Gigalith, ram it!"
Gigalith was a slow pokémon, but once she built momentum, there was no stopping her sheer mass. And pinned down by Gravity, Reshiram couldn't dodge. The rock behemoth slammed against its side, a Giga Impact powerful enough to knock Reshiram off-balance. Its Dragon Breath veered toward the sky, where it blasted a hole through the pink twilight clouds.
Encountering no resistance, the fused beam of Wott's Hydro Canon, Emolga's Thunderbolt and Leavanny's Solar Beam hit Reshiram square in the chest, making it rear back, howling in pain. N cried out his Ancient's name.
Touko grinned ferociously. So legends did bleed. He was just a pokémon after all.
The victory was short-lived.
With a furious roar, Reshiram raised a massive claw, coated in white and purple flames, and slammed it down on Gigalith. The rock pokémon withstood the impact, even as the floor under her body cracked from the pressure. Until Reshiram lowered its head to Gigalith's level and opened its mouth wide.
"No! Thunderbolt!"
Emolga's lightning attacks could hurt Reshiram when combined and directed by Samurott's water, but on their own they were little more than mosquito bites, and Touko could only watch helplessly as Gigalith was engulfed by another Dragon Breath.
She'd seen Gigalith take Hyper Beams straight on and get back up as if it was nothing. Fire Blasts rolled off her rocky body like sand. She was a wall, impenetrable, her blue carapace hard as diamond. Even as a tiny Roggenrola the stubborn ass hadn't hesitated to jump in the path of attacks, to take the hit for her allies. That pokémon was the toughest bastard Touko had ever met.
When the Dragon Breath ended, Gigalith was nothing but chunks of rubble under Reshiram's claw.
Blue fragments of rock were spread here and there, veins of red quartz shining on the jagged broken edges.
One of them rolled to a stop at Touko's feet.
Something within her snapped. She placed a hand on Samurott for balance.
"Stop fighting me!" N shouted, his voice raw.
Touko pointed at him, loss and hatred blackening her mind.
Psychic.
She could sense Reuniclus's reluctance, but she thought of Gigalith and rage surged like a tidal wave. She couldn't tell if it was hers or Reuniclus's, shared through their mental connection.
The attack known as Psychic was the most terrible power of a Psychic pokémon. Its targets died a horrible death, alone, swallowed by their own fear and agony. Touko had only experienced it once; she only survived because it was interrupted. It took her three days to recover, and afterwards she'd sworn she'd never use it against anyone. It was a tool for torture and a horrible way to end someone's life.
The price was steep, as well; unlike other attacks of its type, Psychic drew on the user's own emotional suffering, and Touko had always been wary of what that would do to her and Reuniclus's psyche.
Turns out when you're eyebrow-deep in vengeful wrath all your reservations go out the window.
N cried out and clutched at his head, falling to one knee. His nails dug into his scalp with enough force to draw blood. Touko watched as he howled, purple bruises forming along his jaw and cheekbones. She laughed.
Reshiram stepped in front of its trainer, interrupting Reuniclus's line of sight and ending the attack. N's screams quieted to a soft wail.
The dragon's pupils were narrowed in fury, its nostrils flared. Its mane turned dark red, a shadow that extended to the rest of its body like a coat of pulsating red and violet energy. The demonic shroud bled into Reshiram's pupils, turning them a deep crimson, like blood. Fear burned away Touko's anger. "Light screen!" But Reuniclus, still recovering from his first use of Psychic, was too slow to react.
Samurott wasn't. Water whirled around him as he moved forwards.
Reshiram opened its jaws, revealing the fire brewing inside its mouth. She only had time for a surprised exclamation before the monster spewed out a vortex of brilliant blue fire. It was brighter than any Fire Blast, so bright it hurt to look at, and she shut her eyes and covered her face.
The attack passed in a flare of heat and pain.
The first thing she noticed was the smell. A thick and cloying stench of burnt flesh, so heavy she choked on it. Every breath was wet and burning. She pushed herself up to a kneeling position, blinking the tears out of her eyes. Bits of a cool jelly-like substance covered her arms and slid between her burnt fingers.
Oh.
In the last moment, Reuniclus had draped himself over her to protect her from the worst of the fire, and now there were pieces of him in her hair. She brought her trembling hands up to her face, watching his remains drip on the ground.
Oh.
Her chest rattled, the trapped sobs unable to escape.
She looked up to see a large smoking carcass lying before her and crawled over to it. The stench was strongest there. "Wott, hey, come on, buddy." His fur, once a deep, royal blue, was now black and grey and red where his insides were leaking, popping and bubbling as they fried themselves in his own fat. Touko swallowed against the knot squeezing her throat. "You're a water type, this is nothing to you."
Like Reuniclus, he had placed himself in front of her, trying to shield her with his body, and like Reuniclus, he had paid the ultimate price. "Wott!" she cried, reaching for him.
She was a little girl again, meeting her first pokémon. His fur used to be so beautiful, so blue. He'd been soft and cuddly and they'd slept curled up together, sharing their warmth under the starlight.
Now his fur was coarse and crumbled under her touch, smearing on her hands and cheek as she wept on his carcass.
He'd been a brave little Oshawott from the start of their journey. Belligerent and eager for a fight, a tiny adrenaline junkie, just like she was. She remembered how they'd sought out battles against wild pokémon and trainers alike, eager for opportunities to test themselves with the naïve enthusiasm of the young and inexperienced. She remembered her first ever true battle, against an equally enthusiastic, if a bit odd, young trainer she met in Accumula who called himself N and his cute Purrloin. They'd fought for fun then, when it was all a game and scratches could be healed with a Potion spray.
She noticed through her tears a pile of blackened roots on the ground that was all that remained of Leavanny. What had she been thinking, bringing a bug-type to fight a fire dragon? She should have- but Leavanny had refused to be left behind.
The sound of someone limping closer made her look up. N's once pristine white jacket was smeared with dirt and soot. His face was bruised in the oddest places, deep purple bruises in the corners of his mouth and over the bridge of his nose and in front of his ears. Blood dribbled down his nose, dyeing his lips. He wiped it with his arm.
Had she done that? She couldn't remember.
"I didn't want this," he said. He took another step closer, but suddenly stopped. A weight landed on Touko's shoulder.
Emolga growled at N, showing her fangs, daring him to come closer. The flying squirrel hadn't been caught in the Fusion Flare, as she had been in the air when Reshiram attacked. Her tiny body trembled from having emptied out all its stores of electricity. Her fur was wet with sweat and lined with tracks of soot. Despite that, Touko's youngest and weakest pokémon hissed and spat, ready to defend her trainer with what little strength she had left.
"Thank you," Touko said, smiling through her tears. "I've lost everyone… but not you. Thank you." She wasn't alone. She wasn't the last. Emolga would live. You have to live, for all of us. "Return."
Emolga disappeared in a flash of red light, and Touko brought the pokéball to her lips and breathed. They had lost, but at least, one of them would make it out. It was something.
N watched silently, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I didn't want to hurt you," he repeated. "Why did you fight me?"
Touko ran her fingers over Samurott's burnt fur, lost in memories of adventures long and past that would never come again. Where before there had been pain and fury now there was nothing. Her soul was empty, gone. "I've told you before. A life where I'm not with them is not worth living. Your world, where humans and pokémon live separately, I don't want to live in it. Let me join them."
N's breath hitched.
"How convenient. Granting her wish would only be merciful, son."
A man stepped out from behind a pile of rubble, followed by a sleek Liepard that curled around his legs. He wore armour, grey and white in Team Plasma's colours, and his long pale hair was tied back in a low ponytail. He looked completely different from the last time Touko had seen him dressed in his ceremonial regalia, but she recognized him regardless. Ghetsis. His face was littered with wrinkles and sun spots, and held his arm close to his chest awkwardly as if injured. But even dirty with the evidence of fighting and struggle, Ghetsis walked like he had all the time in the world.
N was arrogant and uncompromising, but at least he was earnest; he fought for others, he believed in his cause. Ghetsis, on the other hand, was just a power-hungry crone, duplicitous and manipulative like a slimy Eelectrik.
Not like it mattered anymore. Touko didn't even question when he had arrived. Her pokémon were dead. Nothing mattered.
"It's time to end it, son," Ghetsis insisted, his voice smooth and almost gentle. "Your enemy is beaten. It's time to deal the final blow."
Touko looked up at N expectantly, but he didn't move. His eyes were red and watery.
Reshiram loomed behind him, waiting for the order, not nearly half as conflicted about ending her life.
"Kill her," Ghetsis repeated, an edge of impatience creeping into his voice.
The threads of fate that connected Touko and N were tangled and poisoned and unique. In many ways they were kindred spirits, pitted against each other by destiny, or luck, or coincidence. But over their journey they had bared their souls to each other little by little with each clash. They had recognized themselves in the other. When she looked into his eyes she caught glimpses of another life, a life where destiny wasn't so cruel. A life where they were friends.
But without her pokémon... she didn't want it.
N shut his eyes. "No."
"Son-"
"I said no." When his eyes opened they shone with the same otherworldly power she'd sensed from him at the start of their encounter. "There will be no more death today." His voice reverberated strangely.
He walked to the edge of the destroyed room and looked down at the rest of the castle, where people and pokémon waited with bated breath for the victor to emerge. The wind buffeted his long hair and lifted the hem of his jacket. Reshiram went to stand next to him, and N placed his hand on the dragon's leg; the two of them cut an imposing sight, white against the red sky, Touko thought. No wonder Team Plasma followed him.
Reshiram let out a deafening roar that rolled over the battlefield like a tsunami. The few combatants still fighting stopped and looked up in unison, as if obeying a command they could not resist.
"Trainers of Unova!" N shouted. "Your hero is beaten. You have no hope of victory. This war is over! Recall your pokémon and surrender to me, and I swear no further harm will come to any of you!"
Behind him, Reshiram spread its wings and roared again, tendrils of blue fire arching from its body. When the thunderous roar passed the silence was absolute. Then, one by one, the Unovan trainers recalled their pokémon in flashes of light. One by one, N's enemies knelt before him.
He breathed in. It was over. The killing, the pain, the infernal carnage that he'd never wanted, it was finally over. He'd be able to build a new world, one where pokémon would never again be forced to slaughter their brethren like on this day. Never again, he swore to himself.
As their foes surrendered, the soldiers of Team Plasma erupted in cheers, rapidly rising in volume to a euphoric cacophony that rivaled Reshiram's roar.
Ghetsis's hand, spindly and cold, clamped down on Touko's shoulder. The pressure of his nails dug into her muscles even through her leather armour. His voice was a slimy whisper in her ear. "Ah, my son. Brave, determined, compassionate. The perfect hero to rule over Unova. I made him that way, you know. My greatest creation."
She didn't reply or try to move. There was no point.
"But still. Despite that, or maybe because of it, he's always struggled handling emotions of a more personal nature. He will not harm those he holds dear, even for the greater good." His hold tightened. "You see, you poor girl, you are the hero as well, the second one, and even without your Ancient and your other pokémon, you are too big a threat."
Pain bloomed between her shoulderblades. Touko looked down at the steel blade protruding from the center of her chest, in the gap between the plates of her leather armour.
Oh, she thought distantly.
"It looks like you get your wish after all, Hero of Unova," Ghetsis whispered in her ear. He twisted the long knife, but she didn't feel it. She'd already gone numb.
She looked up just as N turned away from the crowd. His storm-grey eyes widened when he took in the scene and he raised his hand, reaching for her. His lips formed her name, but it was drowned out by the cheering.
And that was how Touko died, surrounded by her partners' corpses as her enemies celebrated their victory.
Emolga's pokéball, which she'd been clutching in her hand all this time, rolled onto the floor with a dull thump.
A.N So. Yep. That's the prologue. The story will follow the protagonists of W2/B2... in a world where N wins at the end of B/W.
Did you like it? Is there anything you didn't like? I appreciate concrit, so please tell me where you think this chapter can be improved :) I'm worried about it being too long for a prologue. Did you feel like some of the scenes were unnecessarily long? Also I'm worried about Touko being two dimensional and boring :/ would really appreciate your thoughts.
