A/N: Greetings, Pokémon fans far and wide! And welcome to the epic story that is THE ULTIMATE ELITE. I hope you're ready for a wild ride! I hope that I've got a good one planned for you this time. I have a few tricks up my sleeve, and you can count on a few shockers to be in store. It's going to be a long one, so there'll be plenty of surprises to come! I hope you enjoy.
Just a quick note about the structure of this story is that each chapter is told from the point of view of a different character (there are nine point of view characters). Some of the chapters will be taking place at the same time at one another from different places or points of view, while some will follow from event to event. I will be as clear as possible, though vagueness is very common in this story. Cool? Great.
Summary: The Pokémon world has changed since Ash and his friends have last journeyed across it, and our favorite gang themselves have faced changes as well. After years of separation, upheaval in the Pokémon League hurls them back together, and there's more than just each other's secrets waiting for them to return. Mysteries both ancient and new come to life and threatened to tear the Pokémon World we know and love to shreds.
Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon (yet, but we'll see how this story goes).
Onward!
"THE ULTIMATE ELITE"
By WickedHope
Prologue
The Clouds Gather
The Pokémon Tower was alive. Cynthia could feel it. She was yet to even step inside the decrepit stone building, but she could feel a frozen heart beating beneath its floors. Nothing had ever given Cynthia such a rush, and such a sense of fear. Ghosts lived in that tower.
Cynthia felt like a ghost herself. After she had been told to come to Kanto, she had thought it best to change back into suitable traveling garb. The comfortable tank top and slacks she had grown fond of wearing at her villa no longer felt right, not for this. The black clothes and long, wide cloak clasped at her chest suited this day better. Besides, the black fur muff kept her throat warm and dry against the fog that had descended upon their little group. Cynthia felt more prepared this way. The clothes she had enjoyed at home were peacetime clothes, and as much as she dreaded the fact, peacetime was nearing its end.
Agatha, the wizened old Ghost trainer from Kanto's Elite Four, led them. There was no one better. With her Misdreavus at her side and her wispy white hair, she seemed to have risen from one of the graves herself.
Morty and Fantina had far less nerves about the day than Cynthia had. The two gym leaders marched to the Tower that morning with Ghosts hiding in their PokéBalls, so facing real ghosts seemed much less frightening than it did to Cynthia. During the ride from Saffron City, they hadn't done much to soothe her, though. Both of them, who had never met before in their lives, suddenly found a common bond in harping about the differences between Ghost-type Pokémon and ghost Pokémon. Cynthia's head was spinning by the end of it. Agatha had just sat their all the while in the seat across from them, smirking to herself and patting her Misdreavus's head as it dozed off next to her. By the end of the ride, Cynthia managed to make herself understand them, even if just a little bit. Really, though, the only difference she could see is that one type of Pokémon was living while the other was dead. That thought brought Cynthia a strange comfort. If she had to face the undead souls of Pokémon past, it gave her peace to know that the people that she took with her had the closest type of Pokémon you could get to those that lived in the Pokémon Tower.
"It's a dark night," Agatha remarked as they stepped through the little graveyard's gate. That was the first time she had spoken since Cynthia had met her at Saffron City.
"It was supposed to be a full moon," Morty added.
Agatha nodded, smiling. "The clouds have taken care of that. This is the night that spirits walk."
The words sent shivers through Cynthia's spine. She glanced at the graves that littered the grounds around the Tower. Their faces were so weathered and old that she could no longer read the names of the Pokémon they marked. "Old legends." The three trainers she walked with stopped and gave her dreary looks. "That's what my grandmother would say. Old legends, nothing more." Professor Carolina was fond of Pokémon ghost stories herself, but just as stories. She used to tell them to Cynthia in Celestic Town every night and end by saying, Old legends. Her grandmother had loved to tell them just the same, though.
"They say all legends find their root in truth, no?" Fantina propsed, and Agatha's smirk grew, stark against her angry face. "Shall we find the truth, then."
Morty laughed. "I'm game."
"That's what I like to hear, kid," Agatha said, her face growing dark. "Let's go. It's only going to get darker."
Already, Cynthia could barely see her hand in front of her face, and it wasn't even midnight yet. The fog didn't help either, nor the clouds that hung heavy and low in the sky. It all got thicker by the second, feeding the darkness and the knot in Cynthia's stomach.
What is wrong with me tonight? Cynthia thought as the four traveled up the path. Fantina and Morty continued their chat about ghosts, and Agatha pretended not to listen. I've never been this nervous about anything before, and I'm sure I've seen worse than a bunch of ghosts. The only answer that came to her was the dead thing. Ghosts were one thing, but dead Pokémon was something completely different. Cynthia didn't like to think about that.
"Misdreavus," Agatha intoned when they reached the Tower's rickety front door. It was a splintered old thing that barely hung on its hinges anymore. The Pokémon floated dutifully to his master's side. "Psychic."
Misdreavus's eyes began to glow and his head reared back. The door rattled in its place, glowing with a faint pink light. Cynthia watched with confusion. What's so tough about opening that door?
"There's an old power in this place. Everything is locked, even though the lock might not be there to be seen," Agatha explained, as if she had heard Cynthia's thoughts. Misdreavus paused in his work, and Agatha nodded in thanks. "Shadow Ball."
A ball of pure darkness formed in front of Misdreavus and then shot forward. The door shattered on contact, billowing up into smoke and sawdust. Only glittering fragments remained when the dust cleared. The door had been blown away. Not a piece remained.
"Magic is in this tower," Agatha said, nodding firmly. "That door was not the first of the blockages that are in there. Be careful for the others. There are powers that do not want you to reach the top."
Cynthia shivered, and it made her hate herself all the more. She was a Pokémon League Champion. A few ghost stories shouldn't scare her. Her hand felt along her belt until it closed around two PokéBalls. She drew them at the same time, and released Roserade and Lucario into the night beside her. Lucario knelt in the empty doorway, and Roserade stood beside him, her cloak flapping in the night's breeze. Her roses shivered, and she extended them into the room beyond the broken door.
Morty sent out his own Gengar and Fantina added her Mismagius to the team. Agatha's Misdreavus flinched at the sight of Mismagius, floating an inch towards his trainer. Agatha quickly took out her PokéBall and withdrew Misdreavus. "Normally, I would have sent him along with you. He seems a bit nervous tonight."
"'Tis an omen," Fantina mused, her eyes light but her voice dark and raspy. "When Pokémon fear their own shadows. Misdreavus becomes Mismagius, no?" Agatha nodded, and Cynthia's gaze flicked between the two. "It is as if they are turning on themselves. They fear what they become, and what becomes beyond." Fantain grimaced, and, with her Mismagius leading in front of her, she stalked into the building. Her skirts rustled around her, barely fitting through the doorframe. Lucario ducked out of the way to let her through, while Roserade watched from a shadow.
Agatha snorted. "Very dramatic, that one. Come here!"
Morty and and Cynthia both stood in front of Agatha. Each of them were at least two heads taller than Agatha, but with her straight back and stern face, she demanded their attention.
"Make it to the top of the Pokémon Tower. Those are your only orders." Cynthia nodded, shaky at first, but her confidence soon found her. Ghost stories were old legends, nothing more. "If you can make it to the top of the tower, you should have no trouble making it back down to the bottom."
Morty cocked his head, his face puzzled. "But I'm still not understanding what we're looking for."
Agatha smirked. "If I understood what we were looking for, I would have been in there myself."
Cynthia thought she heard a bit of bitterness, but she knew Agatha better than that. The old woman, while a skilled Pokémon Master and extremely deft battler, avoided conflict wherever it came from. She preferred to complete her tasks as quickly and cleanly as possible.
"Whatever it is," Agatha continued, sighing, "it is in that tower. It may not even be something physical. Sabrina was very vague, as psychics tend to be. I'd be shocked if I was told she was coherent herself during that conversation. Your best bet is the top of the tower. You can see all of Lavender Town from there, and the spells will not bother you once you get there."
Cynthia's heart quickened at the words, rising into her throat. The legend of Marowak was the only one her grandmother believed in, besides those of the Reverse World. Professor Carolina always swore with her own eyes that she had seen the ghost of Marowak and that the gentle Pokémon guarded her fellow dead inside the Pokémon Tower. That had to be what Agatha meant.
"So it can be anywhere," Cynthia breathed, more to herself, but Agatha perked up, pushing against her cane.
"It can be," Agatha affirmed. "And knowing this place, it will be. Just be sure that when you find you, you do not stop. Keep moving forward until you reach the top. There, you will be safe." Morty and Cynthia nodded together, and Agatha clapped her cane against the ground before stepping back from them. They didn't wait for another order before they turned and walked towards the Pokémon Tower together.
The temperature dropped as soon as they stepped inside, and the fog that had been thick enough when they were outside the tower seemed to have gotten even thicker, and that was without even a window to get in through. Roserade came quickly to Cynthia's side, standing between her and Morty. Gengar rolled off in between the first row of graves, disappearing into the shadows he was made of. Lucario waited for a moment in the empty doorway, a ball of blue aura light sitting in his paw. He looked back and forth before extinguishing the light and following after Cynthia.
A rush of wind blew over the windowless room, nearly knocking Cynthia and Morty off their feet. When Cynthia regained her balance, clutching Morty's arm to get herself standing again, she looked behind her. The door that Misdreavus had destroyed had reappeared, and Cynthia didn't expect it to be any easier to get through this time around.
Keep moving forward.
Cynthia frowned. Well, Agatha, we don't seem to have a choice now, she thought.
Blue light washed over them, and Cynthia turned to see Morty grinning widely, a torch burning a blue flame in each of his hands. "Will-o-wisps," he said, giving the torches a shake. "It's like pure Ghost fires. We hand-make them." He gave one to Cynthia, and she took it happily, doing the same with his hand when he offered that. It wouldn't have been so bad if Gengar hadn't taken to rolling in between the graves, shuffling the dead leaves that had found their way onto the stone floor.
Lucario and Roserade hugged close to Cynthia and Morty. Roserade flicked her head up and huffed as Gengar rolled in front of them, and Morty and Cynthia chuckled. Morty's laugh sounded less nervous than Cynthia's, but she couldn't tell if he was faking it.
Even with the torches, it was hard to see very far in front of them. All that Cynthia was sure of being in front of them was darkness, fog, and silence.
Keep moving forward.
The darkness parted amiably in front of them and their torches let them see at least each other's faces and their Pokémon. Cynthia's cloak passed over the tombstones on either side of her. Dust swirled off of them and followed behind her. She avoided looking at the names of the Pokémon that rested beneath them. The less she thought about them being dead Pokémon, the better.
Squirtle was the first one she saw. She tried not to look at it, but the the tombstone was set with sapphires and topped with a small figurine of a Blastoise. When the torchlight washed over it, it was hard to ignore. Swiftly, she pushed her eyes back in front of her. Morty squeezed her hand harder.
"I wonder where Fantina ran off to," Cynthia said. She couldn't stop the darkness or the fog, but the silence she could take care of.
Morty shrugged. "No one knows with her. She's almost as bad as a Ghost Pokémon. She just fades-"
Morty's voice sank into the distant background as Cynthia caught sight of another, this one more plain and in honor of a Pidgeot. Slain in battle, it read. Cynthia's stomach churned.
A drowned Eevee came next, and then a Weepinbell that burned to death and a Vulpix that starved. Beside the Vulpix came his mother, a mighty Ninetails. There was no cause of death, just an epitaph proclaiming that Ninetails had lost her head.
Suddenly, they were surrounding her, dancing through the darkened night. Morty's voice became little more than a distant memory as white figures of them all scampered past Cynthia. Eevee was struggling to swim and Weepinbell thrashed to throw off his smoldering skin. Vulpix cowered in between two graves, gasping for breath. Cynthia wanted to stop to help him, but she remembered, Keep moving forward.
Ninetails stood in her path, and her head was mounted on a grave three stones to the right. It blinked as it looked at Cynthia. Cynthia turned back to her body, her footsteps becoming little more than shuffles as she tried to approach. Finally, she stopped dead in her tracks. Ninetails's head rolled through the air, barely grazing her body before snarling at Cynthia and passing on. Fire curled behind her teeth.
Cynthia felt a tug at her side, and a kind voice whispered in her ear to move her forward.
Keep moving forward.
They passed through Ninetails without so much as a chill, and Cynthia calmed down when her torched showed the purple of Fantina's dress at the end of the line of graves. Gengar waited beside it, hopping back and forth between his legs. Cynthia shook free of Morty's hand, running headfirst towards Fantina with her eyes clamped shut. She wouldn't risk seeing another spirit, not stopping until her head plowed into the crinoline.
Fantina didn't embrace her back, and she seemed a lot taller than usual.
Morty's warm hand grabbed Cynthia's again, tugging her away from Fantina. "Step back," he urged. "Let it be. Come on." His voice sounded nervous now, and that didn't help Cynthia. He pulled her away slowly, and it wasn't until the skirt had fallen completely out of her arms that Cynthia opened her eyes.
Fantina was strung up by a noose in the rafters. Her skin had already rotted away, leaving nothing but a skull and stained bones hanging in the dress. They all stared down and pointed at Cynthia.
Cynthia wanted to scream, but she couldn't find it in herself. Instead, she grabbed the torch where she had thrown it down and shoved it into the skirts. They caught fire in seconds. And before long, the entire figure, dress, skeleton, and all, had erupted into flames.
And standing behind the flames, like a ghostly shadow, stood another Fantina.
"It was a cruel trick, no?" she said. She pushed past the burning dress and accept the hug that Cynthia was waiting for. "When I got here, the rope had a Gardevoir. Its family stood on the stairs watching. I rushed to help them, but they did not exist. I couldn't turn back, though. A stone had fallen in the way." Mismagius floated wearily behind Faninta, and she nodded.
"Something really doesn't want us here," Cynthia said, and Morty and Fantina didn't have to agree.
They took the stairs beyond Fantina's corpse carefully, but nothing came to bother them, outside another wind that almost sent the three down the stairs on their backs. Yet again, when Cynthia turned, she found that the way they had come was blocked by a sturdy wooden door.
Keep moving forward.
The staircase let out into another circular room lined with graves, almost identical to the one that they had left on the floor below. Morty paused before the ventured out, grabbing a third torch from his backpack to give to Fantina.
Gengar rolled out from between to graves at the top of the stairs. He leg them forward through the graves. The three trainers walked together down the aisle, which was wider than the one they had taken downstairs. Roserade and Mismagius had each taken a side of the group, while Lucario walked backwards to watch behind them.
"Nothing yet," Fantina said when they were about halfway across the room. At least, Cynthia thought that was where they were. The darkness was thicker on that floor, and so was the fog. She only assumed that the room was the same size as the one below since it was a tower, but there was no way to be sure of anything.
Roserade and Mismagius were more attuned to Cynthia than she had thought. As they walked by the tombstones and the torchlight brought them alive, the two Pokémon stepped in front of them to block Cynthia's view. Morty held her hand tight, and Cynthia smiled. Fantina walked proudly at the front behind Gengar.
The door came as quick as the dawn. It was still ten feet away from them, but a soft light glowed glowed through the doorway. The sharp shadows of a staircase interrupted it.
They were only three rows of gravestones away from it. Then two. One more separated them from the door...and Gengar turned.
Fantina followed behind, and Cynthia and Morty, too, if a bit begrudgingly. Cynthia glanced back at the doorway and bit her lip. Its soft light disappeared behind the fog.
Gengar turned to face them, its steps slow on its short legs. It stumbled on something on the ground that Cynthia pretended wasn't a bone, but the Pokémon seamlessly rolled into a ball and continued on. It stopped, still curled tight, in front of the last grave in the row. The three trainers came around it, staring at it under the blue light of their torches. It was the grave of a Marowak. Not the Marowak, but a Marowak. Its grave didn't say much about who it was or how it died. Only the name of its trainer was carved in small letters beneath the etching of the Pokémon's shape, so faded that the name could barely be read. Besides, new letters had been smeared across the tombstone, in a liquid that flickered blue under their light. But there was no mistaking the distinct, metallic glow of red.
GO BACK. YOU ARE NOT SAFE.
Beside the second phrase, an X had been drawn over Marowak's body.
Cynthia's knees went weak, and she nearly fell to her knees. Her companions almost did the same on either side of her. The graveyard blurred around her, but the words, and the fresh blood they were written in, pierced clear into her sight.
"We have to reach the top," Morty said.
"What good will that do now?" Cynthia replied. This was an omen, Cynthia could tell. Marowak was supposed to be at the top to keep them safe, but Cynthia could only shudder to think of what waited up there instead.
Fantina took Cynthia's other hand and tugged her towards Gengar, who had stood back up at the end of the row. His face was solemn, the signature Gengar smile turned into terrifying grimace. "Agatha would not lie to us," Fantina told her. "And we still have a mission to complete. We must find what Sabrina has sent us here for."
Morty nodded and came to her other side. Roserade appeared behind Gengar, and Lucario tugged at her cloak behind her. Cynthia shook her head, and the Marowak's grave suddenly seemed like a distant memory. What had gotten into her? She was a Champion of the Pokémon League. She had a world to serve and a job to do. She wasn't some scared girl who could hide behind her grandmother.
Cynthia shook off Morty and Fantina. Morty smirked as he stepped behind her, but Cynthia kept her head facing forward. Gengar looked up at her and stretched out a hand. He flexed his fingers and Cynthia stepped in front of him.
"We keep moving forward," Cynthia announced.
Gengar and Cynthia led the group around the graves. They followed behind the final row before the thin light of the doorway appeared to them again. A third identical room waited for them at the top of the stairs, with the only difference this time being the light that had filled the room they had expected to be dark. Windows were set in the thick stones of the towers, long and narrow slits.
"The elders in my city tell stories about these levels of the tower," Morty said as they stepped into the room. "They say the ghosts used them to fire weapons at invaders to keep the tower safe."
Fantina nodded. "Ghosts are supposed to be very good at defending their own." She chuckled, looking back at the staircase. "And they obviously don't like intruders.
A third gust of wind, stronger than the other two, came from nowhere and swept over the three trainers. They fell backwards onto the bone-and-dust-covered ground. Their torches rolled away from them, and when the wind washed over them, their flames went out. Cynthia rolled over as the gale howled on just in time to see one of the tower's mystical doors slam shut over the staircase.
Cynthia was the first to climb back to her feet. The room hadn't darkened that much after the loss of the torches. This room seemed smaller than the rest, though Cynthia couldn't tell if it was just the dim moonlight leaving some of it in shadows. But she could see clear to the other side, where three doors, each with their own staircases, waited. Bright light, brighter than anything any moon could ever provide, spilled hungrily out of those doors, hunting for darkness to consume.
Morty and Fantina came to their feet and joined Cynthia is the aisle. Gengar rolled out of the shadows in front of them. Not a speck of dust was on him. Cynthia couldn't even tell if he had fallen.
"Gengar, find the torches," Morty said, but Cynthia held up a hand.
"It's better this way," she told him. Morty looked confused for a moment, but then his eyes caught Cynthia's, and he nodded. "We'll split up. Each of us'll take a door up to the next level. If you don't find anything in ten minutes-"
"We meet back here, no?" Fantina suggested, but then she caught herself and sighed.
Cynthia smirked. "I'm glad you caught on. The tower probably won't give us that option. If you don't find anything in ten minutes, keep moving forward. We'll regroup when we reach the top." Morty and Fantina both nodded. Fantina came up to Cynthia and kissed her on both cheeks, and then did the same to Morty. Morty took Cynthia's hand and gave them another squeeze. Then they all moved on.
Cynthia took the door in the center, Morty and Fantina to either side of her.
As Cynthia expected, a wind blew past her hair and a door slammed shut at the bottom of the stairs as soon as she took the first step. Lucario and Roserade hugged closed on either side of her. She smiled down at them, and the three went up the stairs together.
The room on the next floor was just as large as the one's that had come below it. Where did those other staircases lead to, then? Cynthia wondered. It should have been a third of the size, but it stretched to the full circle of the tower that had been there on the level below. There's something not right.
Cynthia stepped forward into the graveyard with a quick look around it. The walls stood still. The stones didn't shift and spin or spit blood like the legends said they did when someone got this high. Dead flames didn't come to life and crawl off the torches. No spirits walked free, and the grave were all filled to the brim. Not one had been dug up or overturned.
Lucario appeared in front of Cynthia in a flash, suspended between two rows of graves. Cynthia tumbled over him. He grabbed her by her hand and propelled her forward. She fell to the ground. She grabbed mounds of dirt with her hands to bring herself back up to standing. She caught herself on the grave on the other side of the one that had been dug up.
Three out of four wasn't that bad, was it?
Cynthia crawled to the edge of the chasm of dirt. Six feet beneath her, so low that she wasn't sure it was possible for the grave to be that deep without protruding through the ceiling of the level below, Cynthia could see a mound of bones still shaped into the Pokémon that had left them behind. It was a Growlithe. She squinted, but then shook her head, ignoring the runes that had been carved into the bones and the pile of liquid that the bones were puddled in, both of which probably weren't there at all.
Squeezing Lucario's paw in thanks, Cynthia rose and turned...almost walking right into the next grave, which was dug up as well. She looked into the next row. The bones of a Roselia identical to the one in front of her was laid in the open ground there as well. Next to it was an unearthed Chandelure. That one gave Cynthia chills. Its bones were still black, the color of the steel-like frame of its chandelier appearance.
Keep moving forward.
Cynthia stepped around Vulpix's grave, saying a silent prayer for it as she passed by. She did the same for a Geodude. And a Mudkip. And a Whooper.
Her stomach felt like it was ready to turn inside out by the time she got halfway across the room. She felt like she still had acres to cross, and in front of her, every grave had been opened up. By whom – or what – Cynthia didn't want to know.
She whirled around. The door that led back down to the floor where they had separated was still sealed shut. She fingered Spiritomb's PokéBall. Surely he could open it just as Agatha's Misdreavus had.
Her hand snapped back, and she turned away from the door. Roserade and Lucario got closer to her. The three stepped together to avoid the grave of an Alakazam that looked like it had barely been the ground a month. Ragged, rotting skin still hung on its bones.
Keep moving forward.
Going backward wasn't an option. Agatha wouldn't like that, and neither would the tower.
Cynthia was panting by the time she got to the door at the end of the room. Her heart pounded and her lungs felt like they could never be filled again. It was like she had been walking for days.
This entrance was blocked with the same doors that had come crashing down to bar the exits. She laid her hand on it. It hummed under her fingers.
"Spiritomb!" she proclaimed as she threw the PokéBall into the air. It retracted and flew back to her handas the Ghost Pokémon shimmered before her.
Cynthia knelt beside him, passing her hand through his transparent, ghostly body. It tickled him, and glowing face scrunched up. "Can you open this?"
Spiritomb floated to a place in front of the door and used Dark Pulse. Waves of black and purple energy flowed into the door, which shook and creaked under the waves. The cracks spiderwebbed towards the center, threatening to bring the door crashing down onto Cynthia and her Pokémon.
The door fought back just when it seemed ready to fall to bits.
Every bit of energy that had come from Spiritomb into the door came thrashing out ten-fold, knocking Cynthia down worse than any wind had. The tower hadn't liked her idea. Cynthia groped at her belt until she found Spiritomb's empty PokéBall. She pressed the button on its center, but its refused to expand. Spiritomb sat, frozen in shock, in front of the door.
Cynthia ran to the wooden barrier and pounded on it. It felt like cold stone against her fists.
Keep moving forward.
But she couldn't.
The tower trembled, with enough force and imbalance to collapse it onto itself. Cynthia hoped that it was a sign, imagining a spiraling staircase descending from the ceiling to let her up to the top.
Keep moving forward.
Hopefully, the tower could show her a way.
When the shaking was done, the windows on either side of the tower had expanded into one long glass wall. Both showed graveyard rooms identical to the one Cynthia was in. In one, Fantina was trapped helplessly at the bottom of an opened grave beside the skeleton of a Drifblim. Mismagius was unconscious beside her. Cynthia couldn't even tell if she was breathing.
The other room was empty. The opened graves had nothing but bones in them, the walls were still intact, and there were no more bodies than there were tombstones. Morty had found a way. So could Cynthia. They would come back for Fantina as soon as they could.
Keep moving forward.
Cynthia spun to the door to do just that when she found Morty, strung up the same way Fantina had been two floors below. His body was blood, and his neck was withered and raw. Gengar was dead at his feet.
She swallowed hard. What can I do in a graveyard that can even kill ghosts?
Maybe it was an illusion, just as the image of Fantina had been. If she went back and went up Morty's staircase, she would probably find him just the same as she had left him. Fantina, too. She could walk out with them right then. They'd find a new adventure to go on, far from ghosts and haunted towers.
I don't know why she ever sent us in the first place? Cynthia told herself. Agatha was crazy to trust her.
Each of the graves seemed less inviting as Cynthia climbed back over them, so she was happy to leave them behind. Lucario and Roserade padded behind her. They would make it out alright.
Keep moving forward.
The tower didn't like that Cynthia wasn't following her orders. Its stones were shaking now, and the moss in their cracks hung heavy, red, and wet. One flew out and beamed into Lucario's head. The Pokémon peeled off as if it had never been running. It fell into a grave. Cynthia pretended that there had been bones in that hole and that the tombstone hadn't been new. When the same happened to Roserade, she barely noticed. The fog was thick enough in her head by then.
Keep moving forward.
The orders worked just as well in the other direction. In fact, Cynthia thought they worked better. When she got back to the bottom of the tower, Lucario and Roserade would be waiting there for her again.
The end of the graves was coming close.
Keep moving forward.
There wasn't much more left.
Spiritomb was in front of the door that led back down, the door that blocked her from freedom.
"Use dark pulse," she told it, reataing command through her quivering voice.
And then Spiritomb was gone. His ghostly body faded into the air, leaving nothing more than a rock lined with runes. As his body spread around the room, a white fog grew thick around it, consuming the entire room until there was no light left.
Keep moving forward.
Cynthia fought her way through the fog, brushing Spiritomb's stone aside with her foot as she stepped over it.
Lucario stood in front of the door. His bones had reformed in the seconds that had passed since it had left her. The fog shifted, and Roserade came out beside him. They stood cloaked in mist and clouds in the same way Marowak had always been rumored to. Cynthia wondered if she would ever get to see her.
She turned. There was only one way to get there.
Keep moving forward.
Marowak waited, and suddenly, Cynthia felt closer to her than ever before.
All the Pokémon bones had risen from their graves, formed together perfectly with bodies made of clouds. The mist shifted once more, and stark in the white field stood Alakazem, its tufts of ragged skin hanging loose. Its hands reached for Cynthia, and the fog closed in. The tower held its breath with her.
A/N: Well, what do you think? Terrifying? Terrifyingly bad? Let me know by reviewing! I'd love to hear from you along the way on what you think so far and where you think I should go, so... review!
NEXT TIME: Our story begins! We open in the quiet of South City, where Rafe, our forgotten friend from Destiny Deoxys, prepares for the next leg of his journey, meeting a new friends - and maybe a new enemy - along the way.
WickedHope