It always starts with innocence.
The Pokémon, small, blue and black, scampered across the rocky pathway that cut through one of the many mountains that made up Dragnor's landscape. The horned Pokémon, its face concealed beneath a matted mess of black fur, hopped over an offending rock that laid in its path, before continuing its aimless trek down the uneven path winding through the landscape. The Pokémon came to an abrupt halt, slamming its stubby paws into the ground as it heard a disturbance some distance away, tilting its small head in wonderment at the source of it.
"Hurry up, Motoyasu!" said noise was energetic, a bit flighty and high-pitched, clearly coming from the voice of a child. The small Pokémon's suspicion was confirmed when a boy, clothed in a mish-mash of various purples and blacks, stepped out from behind the shadow of a mountain wall, his side facing the Dragon Type and attention focused on someone else down the path that twisted against the mountainside.
"You-You're... too quick... Nobunaga..." the ragged reply came in the form of a meek voice, followed by a heavy sigh. The boy in sight let out a cheerful laugh at his companion, who finally slinked into the view of the Pokémon. Clad in a dull grey to contrast his more vibrant friend, the lithe boy was hunched over and grasping for breath.
"Why'd... I agree to... that race?" he questioned rhetorically while the other boy continued his laughter at his condition. When he raised his head, almost obscured by his mess of black hair, his gaze fell upon the Pokémon that had been standing in one of the side paths observing them. The thin boy went silently, quickly tapping his friend, who had turned his back at the scene to look at the clear sky. He turned around and opened his mouth to ask about the prodding, but the question died in his throat at the sight of the small Dragon Type eyeing them curiously.
"Whoa... A Deino..." the kid took a cautious step forward, not cautious enough to keep his sandal from crunching against the dirt underneath, tanned arms raised slightly in a show of non-aggression, as if the Dual Type standing across from him would detect the motion. He took another step forward, while his lanky friend in grey just watched on nervously, and when the rare Pokémon failed to flee at the additional step, he took another forward. Within a few more, he was inches away from the Irate Pokémon, kneeled down, and slowly extended a hand towards the small Dragon Type.
"Hey there..." The Pokémon tilted its horned head in curiosity once more, before leaning in and sniffing his outstretched hand. "Go on; I won't bite."
The same couldn't be said for the Deino.
It opened its maw, and before the shocked boy could react, latched onto his hand. He blinked in response, having expected the sensation to be far more painful than the dull pressure that it was, looking down at the Dragon Type now firmly clasped around his appendage, before locking his gaze with what he presumed was its. The two stood in silence for a few belated moments, neither breaking their silent, mental deadlock until the other boy slowly came over, knees wobbling with each hesitant step.
"Uh, Nobunaga... does that hurt?" Nobunaga was finally shaken from his concentration, standing back up and turning around, his hand, and the Dragon Type still clamped around it, falling to his side.
"Not as much as you'd think, Motoyasu," he then gazed downwards.
"So I guess you'll be coming with me now, huh?" The Deino responded with a muffled affirmative, now clinging to his side for support.
"You formed a link with-" Motoyasu's question was cut off by another pair of heavy footsteps echoing off the dirt path, and both turned to see a burly man a few decades their senior, garbed in a series of overlaying purples and tans complete with an unkempt beard. The Tyranitar standing behind him was most likely the cause of half the ruckus, but the man himself was large enough to draw the attention of the two alone.
"Lord Nobunaga! Lord Motoyasu! You can't just run off like that!" despite the formalities interjected before addressing the two children, it was clear the older male was reprimanding them with an unspoken authority that was not to be ignored.
"Forgive us, Mr. Katsuie." the slim one replied with an apologetic bow, the boy's dull grey and blue attire now mimicking his suppressed tone in an almost taunting manner. Nobunaga's attention, though, was still to the Pokémon dangling from his hand. Katsuie seemed to have noticed this, his look falling to his charge's side. Before he could question the boy about it, the youth pried Deino off, before holding the Dragon Type up by its blue midsection for the warrior to observe in greater detail. The man raised an eyebrow in belated curiosity, and the Deino gave him an eager smile in return, itself curious about the new form before it.
"Take a look at my new partner, Katsuie!"
"Dei!" the Pokémon spoke out to the man energetically, as if giving him an enthusiastic greeting, one that was foiled by the ecstatic smile on the face of its partner. The gruff man made a sound in acknowledgement, and gave a short nod in approval, a simple act which spoke volumes to the boy beneath his gaze, and he began to turn.
"I'm certain your father would like to see it as well," at the mention of his father, Nobunaga's smile faltered slightly, no doubt at the unspoken promise of some sort of punishment for his rash behavior, but the simple presence of his new friend was enough to maintain it. Katsuie then turned in full, his Tyrantiar moving to the side to give him a bit more room to maneuver. "Now, Lord Nobunaga, Lord Motoyasu, we must return to Dragnor."
The trio began their descent back the way they came, one's eyes on the road ahead for any signs of danger, one's eyes fixated on the clear sky in an effort not to think about that possible danger, and one's eyes locked on his newfound partner, fantasizing about all the danger the two would go through together. None of them could know what laid ahead from that simple chance, meeting.
How the years passed.
The Deino, now a Zweilous after so many years of standing by Nobunaga's side, was now watching the procession of warriors as they celebrated, talking vibrantly with one another as the cheery mood of the occasion hung over the cacophony like one of the many lanterns dangling from the roof. The Dragon Type's partner wrapped his strong arm around the waist of his bride, pulling the blushing woman close with an optimistic smile while addressing one of the warriors. He was no longer the small boy that the previously Irate Pokémon happened to stumble across that fateful day; now tall and broad-shouldered with his hair tied up into a messy topknot, he cut an imposing figure befitting a Warlord, but still maintained the cheery, idealistic disposition that the Pokémon knew as his defining characteristic, even though the childish anticipation that came with it died long ago.
But the attention of the left head was not directed to Nobunaga, but the woman who he held in his arm. The Pokémon had never been well acquainted with the other Warlord, unlike Motoyasu, and did not particularly trust the woman from Spectra, no matter her current position as his new wife. The right head picked up these doubts, and though felt threatened too, turned and head-butted the left with a command to be happy for their friend. Nobunaga, who had caught the sight of the two fighting out of the corner of his eye, let out a silent chuckle before returning his attention to the other Warlord standing before him.
"Well, regardless, here's to the two of you." Motoyasu had finished his exposition and raised his cup, and was met by two others.
"Thank you, Motoyasu. I know the roads connecting Dragnor to the other kingdoms get difficult to travel on this time of year, b-" the Valoran shook his head, giving a reassuring smile to his friend.
"I'm not going to let a little bad weather keep me from attending my best friend's wedding, Nobunaga." his visage darkened slightly, eyes glancing down to the liquid inside the cup he was holding. "Besides, the Imagawa are a bigger concern..."
His offhand comment elicited another bout of laughter from the groom. "You shouldn't worry about Chrysalia so much, Motoyasu. I'm sure those rumors about a fleet are just that; rumors. And even if they're true, who's to say that the Imagawa will attack Valora?" Motoyasu's gaze rose, the dark cloud that had been suspended over his head seemingly chased away at his friend's reassurance.
"Yeah..." he then let out a chuckle. "Ah, listen to me; talking about war at a wedding. I guess not that much has changed since we were kids, huh?" Nobunaga's gaze had shifted back from his friend to his Pokémon, observing that the two heads of the Pokémon were now arguing with each other in a manner that could have only been described as comical.
"No, not that much at all. But I like it that way. Anyways; go enjoy yourself a bit for once, Motoyasu. I think there's somebody else I need to talk to." the young man, having followed his fellow Warlord's gaze, gave a nod in understanding before a courteous bow, his slim frame quickly slipping into the crowd. The two remaining Warlords made their way over to the Hostile Pokémon that was too busy bickering with itself to notice their presence, and it wasn't until Nobunaga clapped loudly that the attention of the two heads were drawn to their partner. Satisfied with the pacification of the Dual Type, he then turned to his new wife.
"I don't think I've properly acquainted the two of you, have I?" the woman next to him, slim, clothed in a modest purple that matched her hair, raised an eyebrow in good nature at the mention of 'properly', recalling that the first time and only time he tried introducing the Pokémon to her, she walked away from the encounter with a bite mark on her hand.
"Not yet, I'm afraid, love." the woman, a warm smile gracing her porcelain face in a disarming showing of kindness, leaned in and extended her hand with a noticeable amount of hesitation. The right head in turn leaned in while the left just gazed at it suspiciously, and the female Warlord inwardly flinched out of instinct. The right head looked back up, apparently satisfied, and the left simply maintained its stony compunction but voiced no complaints.
"See, No? Zweilous is fine with you." 'fine' was not exactly the term the Hostile Pokémon would have used, being as the emotions of fear and envy at the perceived threat still swirled inside its two heads, but, out of both friendship and loyalty to its partner, the Dual Type decided it could live with the additional presence. No turned her gaze to her new husband, returning his beaming smile with one of her own, and the Pokémon for a moment observed the happiness the two shared over the occasion, and the future. Perhaps, both heads concluded, if Nobunaga was happy, then it could be happy too.
Happiness is fleeting.
Perhaps the heavy storm that raged over Dragnor, unleashing a barrage of freezing, pounding raindrops upon the warriors below, was fitting in some morbid way. The dark, cloud-filled sky, enveloped with thunder and unleashing a torrent, combined with the waterlogged and malleable earth beneath the Zweilous, threatened to wash away everything nearby, including the invading army from Chrysalia. But it could never be that easy.
The Pokémon gazed down on the panoply of warriors trudging along the ragged mountain road under the gloomy weather, leaning dangerously close to the edge of the steep incline it had been seated upon, its nearby partner observing the army with a disconcerting passiveness. But despite the neutral façade Nobunaga wore, stoic and disinterested even in the face of the odds and circumstances, the Dual Type could still feel the anger radiating off him. No; it went beyond simple anger.
This was rage.
Rage at the Imagawa, primarily, as they were the invaders and the source of the trouble that now plagued the northern peninsula, having seized the surrounding kingdoms and now setting their ravenous sight upon Dragnor, but it was more than just that. Rage at the circumstances was behind it as well; Motoyasu, having been the first to fall, was forced to join forces with them or watch his kingdom and people suffer under the heavy hand of a distant kingdom that only saw Valora as a stepping stone. There had been no good solution; the lanky Steel Type user simply had to pick the lesser evil. And in a cruel twist of irony, that lesser evil happened to be the very evil who forced the choice upon him. And now, he too, was forced to march against his friend.
Then there was rage at the senselessness of it all. Even those who lacked the link that the Pokémon had with the Warlord could understand the rage directed at flimsy justification of the attack; the right of the conqueror. The northern kingdoms had little business with Chrysalia, save it and Valora being two of Ransei's principal ports, but the lack of any connections had done nothing to dissuade the Imagawa from setting sail. In another cruel twist of irony, Chrysalia itself was surrounded by conflict on all sides, but was seemingly never drawn into the nearby struggles between neighboring kingdoms. But, rather than relish the peace they had, Chrysalia simply used it as an opportunity to bring war to those unprepared who had no stake in it, under the justification that it would bring them closer to finding the Legendary Pokémon.
And that was the root of it all; the Legendary Pokémon. The old legends spoke how the Pokémon that created the region would appear before the Warlord that unified it, and they spurred forward the conflict that had engulfed the region for the past few centuries. Nobunaga never believed them, having denounced them as superstition to give hope to an impossible task, but that did not mean that others shared his opinions. And even if they did, it was still the perfect excuse to wage wars, to justify brutality to both their enemies and partners. And so, the Warlord's rage spilled over at the legends for being the source of the pointless conflict that had shattered his idealism and peace. But the Dual Type could feel something else within its partner besides rage, something greater spurring him forward to unleash this ambush upon the attackers. Some will to end the fighting, to restore some degree of calm.
Finally, the Warlord, still gazing down at the Imagawa below with a fire in his eyes, slowly raised an open hand, drawing the Pokémon from its thoughts.
He closed his hand.
The warriors and Pokémon thundered down the incline, towards the unsuspecting army.
Chaos erupted the moment the warriors had ceased their march at what sounded like an approaching earthquake, and turned in time to see a host of valiant warriors falling down on them, their partners unleashing a barrage of attacks in a desperate push to end their invasion. Frantic shouts rang out as formations broke, warriors scattering much like the rain around them to get out of the way of the attacks. Like dominoes the force collapsed, be it from the actual offensive on the part of the defenders, to the panicked fleeing of a good portion of the warriors themselves, or the refusal of the auxiliaries from the conquered kingdoms to fight after witnessing the display. The Warlord of Chrysalia, a man cloaked in makeup and ornate clothing that made him look more like a bad caricature than the conqueror he really was, tried in vain to rally his routing forces, only for himself to be forced to fall back after trading futile blows with Nobunaga himself. And, with his retreat, the last resistance to the ambush melted away.
It had been a watershed victory.
Now the sky was clear, rays of lukewarm light falling onto the terrain below, while the ground was still muddy and bore the footprints of fleeing warriors and Pokemon, as if nature itself was testifying to that fact. Two Warlords who had been forced to ally with the invaders for the sake of their homes kneeled before Nobunaga, unconcerned about the mud trying to swallow them up, while their combined warriors surrounded them. One of the Warlords was Motoyasu, who was desperately trying to hold back tears over the recent events, and the other was a blue-clad man with long hair that the Dragon Type standing by its partner's side failed to recognize.
"Lord Nobunaga..." the Steel Type using Warlord choked out, the gratitude in his voice palpable. "From this day forth, I; Motoyasu- no; Ieyasu Tokugawa, pledge myself and Valora to your service."
"And I, Mitsuhide Akechi," the blue-clad Warlord spoke up, his head still facing downwards in subservience. "swear the kingdom of Nixtorm and myself to your cause, as well."
One of Zweilous' heads lifted itself to gaze at Nobunaga, the other busy scrutinizing Mitsuhide, and saw the Warlord of Dragnor gazing off into the sky. The Pokémon could feel that the man's anger had subsided, for the most part, but the look it saw in his eyes, one that contained the same zeal as when he gazed down at the now fleeing army, drew in its full attention. For a while it looked on in mesmerized silence, attempting to figure out what this new presence was, before the sensation finally stuck the Pokémon: it was ambition.
Ambition devours all.
The Zweilous was now a Hydreigon, the two halves of its brain finally being reunified under a single head. It floated in bated silence, observing its partner as he sat in the middle of one of the castle's many spiraling towers, eyes shut and completely silent. Another handful of years had passed since that fateful day, and its aftershock had rippled throughout Ransei. Destroying one of the largest armies in Ransei and unifying the entire northern peninsula in one single battle had seemingly given life to an ambition within the man, that sapped away everything else within him to fuel itself. An ambition to end the conflict. His rage, along with most of his emotions and idealism, was long gone, but was rather replaced with an even more terrifying zeal directed at the injustices that caused it in the first place.
Such a calculating, lifeless drive was now one of the only things its partner retained; power, and the attainment of it, was all that mattered now, as only it would be able to achieve his ambition. His idealism had made way for pragmatism that day; trampled into the mud and rain by the long march of the armies. In a time and place where might made right and the end justified the means, to destroy what he once hated; he had to become the epitome of it. His entire life, all his energy and every waking moment, was devoted to achieving that unholy combination of truth and ideals. Perhaps the pitch-black, obsidian armor he donned some time after that fateful battle, reflected the all-consuming abyss his ambition had become, fitted him in some cruel, mocking manner that managed to stir some form of pity within the Brutal Pokémon.
Its beloved partner was alive, the Dual Type concluded, but he did not live either.
But it would follow him and devote itself to his ambition, regardless.
"Brother?" Nobunaga's dark eyes shot open. Whether or not he had been awake, the Pokémon did not know; rest and planning had become synonyms to him, true sleep having been nothing more than another luxury to be sacrificed for his goals. The man slowly rose, a mass of cascading purple and black rising from the ground, before turning around, Hydeigon following his gaze to the singular arched entrance to the octagonal room. If the Warlord had been denounced as the Demon King, then the auburn-haired girl standing in the doorway, shaking underneath the domineering gaze of the Warlord, was nothing more than a delicate flower. The armor-encased man raised an eyebrow in mild disinterest, silently demanding an answer from the girl who merely shrunk even more underneath the additional pressure.
"M-Mr. Katsuie says all the preparations for the march to Avia are ready..." she quickly trailed off after that, holding the Jigglypuff in her arms even tighter as another wave of fear overtook her. Nobunaga let out an apathetic sigh through closed lips, before turning back around, towards the walls.
"Dismissed." the reply was empty, bearing nothing other than a steely command. She quickly bowed and fled from the entrance, while Nobunaga slowly approached one of the open walls of the rotunda, gazing out over the mountainous terrain of Dragnor underneath the sunset, and onwards towards the horizon. Towards the other kingdoms; the obstacles that stood in his path.
"Ransei shall know peace..." his voice was hollow, mechanical; a far cry from the lively one brimming with energy the Dual Type recalled hearing years before. "Nobunaga shall ensure it... at all costs."
Nobunaga. That word reverberated through the Hyrdeigon's head like a swarm of angry Beedrill. It was said in such an apathetic, impassive manner as if the speaker was just some detached spectator watching an impersonal force that he had no connection to whatsoever; nothing more than just another expendable pawn in some grand game of chess. The man finally turned back around from the sight and began to trek back across the room, his partner quietly floating behind him, shoving aside its thoughts. There could be no room for hesitation if Nobunaga's ambition was to be realized.
Only power mattered thereafter.
"Hy!" the Brutal Pokémon exclaimed, sidestepping a slash aimed at it before unleashing a Dragon Pulse at its opponent. The opponent, much to the distress of the Dual Type, merely shrugged off the beam of energy after it had died down, and charged once more. The Pokémon reared back its head to avoid another swipe of obsidian metal, using one of it's lifeless head-arms to clamp down one the blade as it came back around for another swing, halting the offensive in full, before opening its maw and unleashing a point-black Dragon Pulse upon the assailant.
The attacker let out a grunt as the power of the attack sent him flying across the octagonal room, tumbling a few feet before willing himself to stop and rise again. The conqueror gave a curt nod in approval, raising his sword and charging forward once more. The six, black, tendril-like wings protruding from the back of the Dragon Type fluttered, raising itself up to avoid the attack, before unleashing a relentless barrage of Tri-Attacks on the ground below, the multi-colored orbs slamming into the floor and imploding as the Dragon Type tried to hit the man. The conqueror disinterestedly dodged them, occasionally slicing a few in half with his blade if they got too close. Hydreigon growled in frustration, swooping downwards with a Dark Pulse charging in its open maw. Nobunaga capitalized on the action, rolling out of the way of the Dark Type attack and quickly closing the distance between himself and his partner. Jabbing the hilt of his blade into the neck of the Dragon, he forced the Dual Type downwards before shifting his grip to thrust forward. The few seconds that had been expended in that action was all the time the downed pseudo-legendary needed.
Opening the mouths of all three of its heads, Hydreigon quickly unleashed a combined Dragon Pulse on the man looming over it. The attack, hastily charged, was only powerful enough to knock the man off his feet and regain a small distance between the two, but it was a sufficient advantage to swing the odds back in favor of the Pokémon. It quickly floated back up, forcing itself to unleash another Dragon Pulse on the man, who was rising back to his own feet, with the same ruthlessness it showed to his enemies on the battlefield. He rolled out of the way in time, the second attack blanketing the place he had been convalescing, before rushing the Pokémon's position in the middle of the room. One mass of black quickly tackled the other before it could unleash another attack at range. The two entities engaged in another melee for some time, a precarious balance being established as the two traded blows, the conflict dragging on for what felt like hours before the Pokémon managed to sneak in another close-range Dragon Pulse and launch the man backwards.
The battle was concluded as the Hydreigon quickly floated over to the now kneeling conqueror, lowering one of its mindless head-arms towards him in a silent command to surrender. Both were bruised, battered and bleeding between ragged breaths, and though neither had truly applied themselves in the skirmish, the Pokémon decided that was enough. Nobunaga's lips, marred by a stream of blood, curled upwards slighty in a small grin, apparently satisfied with the outcome. The Hydreigon just remained stoic; snout shut tightly and eyes baring no hostility, never savoring these sparring matches in the same way it did the battlefield. The conqueror beneath him either noticed such or picked up on the Pokémon's thoughts, as he let out a mirthless chuckle before standing up, sheathing his sword and patting the Pokémon on its head. The Brutal Pokémon unintentionally smiled as a result of the actions; memories of the past beginning to come to mind, but the contact was short lived and Nobunaga returned to the center of the octagonal room.
"There is no place for complacency," the conqueror began. "All of eastern Ransei may have fallen before us, but we cannot mistake that for triumph. There is work yet to be done, and we must be willing to do what is necessary to achieve our goals."
"Hy. Hydreigon." the Pokémon replied, crossing a head-arm over its midsection and lowering its main head in an attempt to bow. Nobunaga turned around at the Pokémon's comment, giving a curt nod in agreement, before turning his gaze back towards the parted walls, observing the clear night sky.
"Yes."
And now, defeated, what next?
Nobunaga's ambition had been achieved, yes, but not in the way any of them had been expecting. Even the mighty Demon King, with the loyalty of his legions and the might of two Legendary Pokémon, could not stand against the combined efforts of an entire region. Cowed at Dragnor before the coalition after a lengthy and massive battle, Ransei had been unified. And much to his annoyance, the legends proved to be true. Atop the seemingly endless Infinite Tower, the Legendary Pokémon had shown itself. He had assembled his most loyal generals and attempted to end the source of the conflict, going so far as to call upon the might of Rayquaza to do so, but even that failed to conquer the titan. But, despite being defeated in the final battle, the Demon King had won the war and fulfilled his ambition by convincing the Legendary Pokémon to leave Ransei, thus ending the source of any future conflict. Now Ransei was at peace.
Now there was nothing left for either of them.
He had devoted everything to achieving peace; and now that it had been accomplished, he was obsolete. Hydreigon had faithfully ensured his will had been carried out, believing in his vision. Now neither were no longer necessary.
And so, Nobunaga found himself still atop of the Infinite Tower, which bared no signs of being the battlefield between Legends it had only a few hours prior. He stood at the edge, the three Pokémon that had assisted him standing behind in observation, watching daybreak across the horizon of Ransei; a new dawn ending the long night of war that had engulfed the region for so long. And then he gazed downwards, into the stormy clouds and endless expanse that surrounded the upper levels of the tower. He took a step forward, one foot going off the edge of the mighty construct, and one of Hydreigon's head-arms instinctively shot forward to grab the hem of his purple coat and pull him back. The man turned to look at the Pokémon, and for the first time in more than a decade, Hydreigon saw flickers of sorrow in his usually empty gaze.
He no longer had a burden to carry, and that was what crushed him.
Before the Pokémon could voice a complaint, another voice rang out in question, and the former Warlord turned. Standing across the distance in the center of the tower was the girl the pseudo legendary had long ago dismissed as being nothing more than a scared, delicate child, who had later gone on to rally the region against her brother's conquest. Hydreigon snorted in frustration at her unexpected appearance, turning around to ignore her as she attempted to dissuade the man from what the Pokémon had witnessed moments ago, a strange feeling of both relief and anger washing over it at her being the one to try to reason with him. The conversation between the two was short, carrying on for a few minutes while the Dragon Type merely observed the sunrise splash various yellows and reds across the sky, before Nobuanga turned back around. He walked up to the edge once more, simply staring in unison with his first partner for a few long moments, before turning to said Pokémon. Dark eyes met purple slits, and an unspoken conversation was carried out between the two. Hydreigon nodded weakly, giving out a weak, wistful affirmative. Nobunaga smiled, his gaze turning back to the distance.
He jumped.
Hydreigon followed.