Author's note: I own nothing in this story except the original characters that I'll be using. Assassin's Creed and all properties are owned by Ubisoft while Pokemon is owned by the Pokemon Company which seems to be part of Nintendo so they're gonna get the credit. If I'm wrong on who owns what, sorry. Again, I own nothing and this is just for fun so you guys will want to read the actual manga for Pokemon and comics for Assassin's Creed to support the official release...assuming you don't already play the games.
With that out of the way, prepare to enter Pokemon's Russia.
16:47 Local Time
Moscow, Russia
Panting as he ran through the halls, a dark-haired figure ducked before his head was nearly taken off at the shoulders. The few hairs that the axe sheared off caused the young man to lash out with his fist. The last thing he wanted was to end up being another death to the Order. He had been doing research on the Kremlin for three months and nothing had told him about having guards of any kind this late at night. Cursing his own hubris, the young man threw his full weight at his attacker. He didn't have a weight advantage by any means, but he knew how to use their own weight against them.
In nearly an instant, he was upon his target and raining blows wherever they would land on the man below him. Eventually, the thrashing under him stopped and the young man was able to stand take better stock of where he was in the large building. A quick glance let him know that he had a few options on where to exit, but none close enough to where he had to get out of if he wanted to not end up a stain on the frozen ground below. Letting out a sigh as he slowly kept walking down the hallway, the young man tried to think how he had ended up in a position that ended with him escaping the Kremlin of all places. Sure, he'd escaped from a prison or two, maybe even a skyscraper in New York...but the Kremlin was entirely new territory. A place that seemed to still have a few guards around was just as deadly as he had been led to believe. Then again, the Order had expected some resistance, but not ten guards and the eleventh one having a rather dangerous-looking axe. Shaking his head, the man had a feeling there was bound to be more between him and his exit point.
"And why haven't you checked in yet?" a voice buzzed in his year. "You were due to let us know when you were out of there an hour ago. Did you just forget or-"
"I had to deal with some ublyudki," he responded, cutting off any further words. "Had I known I'd have an audience, I would have made a much grander entrance." A smirk played on his lips as he heard sputtering on the other end of his communication device. It always brought him slight joy to hassle his handler when in dangerous situations. For some, such jokes would have distracted them and kept them from noticing any threats. In the case of Vlad Abramovich, it let him hide his stress and frustration so he could keep his mind occupied.
"Just get the information and get out of there," the voice responded with a hint of exasperation.
"Roger."
If he knew where he was going, Vlad would have been out of the building and soaring back to his little hideaway by morning. As it stood, he'd be lucky if he managed to make it out before the sun rose. Exhaling as he came to yet another staircase, the young brunet couldn't help but groan. It seemed that there were more stairs and hallways than actual rooms in the entire building, but he had to make sure he managed to get out before his ended up on a spike….assuming they still did that. Dismissing the thought of what his death would entail were he caught, the native Russian began climbing with his hand running against the interior wall. His handler had told him that there was a good chance that the room they were looking for was hidden away and only the Prime Minister and President knew about. Whether it was a tie to their ancient enemies or if it was just a safety room remained to be seen.
The smooth wood under his fingers gave no clue or hint that there was anything more than wall as he kept climbing higher into the building. The climb wasn't overly difficult or long, merely another inconvenience to have to deal with in his search. If he hadn't been a local, Vlad wondered if he'd end up being roped into the whole infiltration operation.
"I swear I saw something flying out there," a gruff voice said, the Russian accent thick. "There's someone watching this building and trying to kill us. They want our blood for what we've done! I told you throwing in with them would end in our deaths!" A smack could be heard as Vlad crept closer to the source of the conversation. It seemed that he could get some information out of whoever was speaking, and maybe whoever they were talking with.
"Aleck, calm yourself," a smooth voice reassured his compatriot. "The Tampliyery wouldn't let anything happen to their greatest agents in Rossiya. We've killed more of those little ubiytsy than the last ones in power. As long as we play nice, we have nothing to worry about. Now, how about some vodka? I know you like the stuff we had from back in the day."
Cursing his bad luck, Vlad realized that he ended up in one of the Templars' bases of operations. Of course, there was a good chance that this was the lion's den and he wouldn't have another chance to take down Alecksander Belov again. The assassin part of him was telling him to call forth one of his partners and see about wiping out the head of Russia's cell of the Templars. The other, more pragmatic, part was telling him to keep searching for the thumb drive and see about informing the rest of the Order about what he'd found.
Worrying his lower lip, the brunet realized what he had to do if he was to get out with his head on his shoulders. A flick of his wrist let him feel the cool steel of his hidden blade pop out before returning to its resting position. If he was going to do this, he had to make sure he was prepared. Running a finger over a series of miniaturized balls, a smirk formed on the brunet's lips as he did his best to open the door quietly. A creak that could have woken the dead echoed through the relatively quiet hall and room, drawing the pair in the room's attention to the crouched figure.
"I wasn't expecting to have to test my worth against someone with actual talent until I dealt with your Master," the taller of the pair said. "Seems they were tired of me sending back bodies missing limbs. I could tear you apart without help from my Pokemon, but perhaps you'd like to do things a bit more civilly. I know we're supposed to kill each other, but that doesn't mean we have to act like animals." The voice was almost haunting to Vlad. The calm poise that the man ready to kill or be killed exuded was enough to set anyone on edge.
"What are you talking about, Ivan," the portlier of the pair shouted, backing away from the intruder. "Just kill him and be done with it. He's seen our faces and he's wearing one of their hoods. I don't care if you have to use your Machamp to deal with the vreditel', but just kill him!"
Unclipping a red and white ball from his belt, the hooded man nodded. The deal seemed fair enough: a proper Pokemon battle and the winner decided the fate of the loser. He would have prefered more open air, but the smaller quarters meant that his opponent couldn't use larger creatures.
"I win, you die," the young man said, doing his best not to show fear. "If you win...well, we both know what you planned to do to me if you weren't feeling nice." The only thing stopping him from sprinting at the pair and using his hidden blade was the fact that there could easily have been more monsters hiding and waiting for their master's command.
A small smile was the only show the taller man gave to show he agreed to the terms. It seemed that was all that was needed as the pair simultaneously threw their ball towards each other. Twin flashes of white light erupted and coalesced into what some would call animals.
An angry squeak erupted from a small grey quadruped as it shook itself, the scales clanging to make a bit of noise. On the other side, a deafening roar erupted from the maw of a large white bear as the two Pokemon stared at each other, the smaller one trying to look more intimidating than it appeared to be.
"Oh blyad'," the young man cursed, realizing that there would be no switching available. "I will say that an ice bear is a smart choice against my Jangmo-o, but we've got a few tricks up our sleeve." A cocky smirk played on the young man's lips as he mentally went over the moves his Pokemon knew. There was maybe a single move that he'd be able to use to at least harm the large bear, but the odds of taking it down without a fight were very slim.
"I'll start if it's not a problem," Ivan said. "Nikita, Powder Snow." A flurry of small snowy pellets peppered the metallic-looking dragon, only for it to growl and leap towards the large bear and slamming its head against the white beast.
"Sorry, but my Jangmo-o is used to harsh weather like hail and sandstorms," Vlad said with a smirk. "But I think your Beartic's gonna be hard of hearing because of Kenway's Screech." The dragon nodded at the command and opened its mouth, releasing a high-pitched screech which made the large bear back away from the source of the harsh noise.
"Clever," the tall man said, a small smile on his lips. "You seem to be rather clever in how you fight. But, I think it's time we end this now. Nikita, bring down some grad and then unleash your Blizzard." At those words, Vlad's eyes widened. It was no secret that an ice-type could channel the hail in an area into a blizzard and cause harsh damage against their enemy.
"Kenway, hit it with a Brick Break," the brunet implored, rushing towards his targets. "Follow up with a sandstorm!" It was unlikely that he'd be able to counter the hailstorm fast enough, but he could still hope that the attack wouldn't fully hit his small dragon-type.
As he heard the pained shout of the icy bear, the young assassin leapt at the portly man that had taken to cowering behind a desk and dove his hidden blade deep into the man's neck. He knew that tradition dictated he spoke a prayer for the dead, but he'd be able to do that after he had taken down the other Templar lieutenant.
"Now, Mr. Abramovich," the tall man said with a scolding tone. "I thought we'd settle this like civilized trainers, not like barbarians. But, if you plan to go against our agreement, I suppose I have no choice but to do the same." With that, Ivan pulled a sword from the jeweled sheath on his hip and brandished it at his quarry.
"I kept my end of the deal," he said, taking a step back towards the windows behind him. "Our deal was that if I won then you'd die and vice versa. We're both still alive and our Pokemon are still battling. Oh, and tell Aleck I said 'pokoysya s mirom', he'll know what it means." Recalling his grey companion with a smirk, the dark-haired assassin chuckled and picked up a lamp as he hoped the weight was enough for his plan.
A casual throw sent the light fixture through the window he had been backing towards, shattering the glass. It was a shame he wasn't able to retrieve what he had been sent to get, but the death of Alecksander Bolev was a large benefit for the Order in Russia. It was hard to say if the trade-off was worth it, but at least one of the larger players in Russia was out of the picture. A leap through the broken window saw Vlad falling to the ground below. Anyone else would be worried about their imminent demise of hitting the concrete.
"Nox, any time now," he called, hoping his Pokemon could still hear him. Closing his eyes, Vlad felt the wind whipping through his hair as he felt the ground nearing him. Suddenly, he felt claws grab onto his shoulders as a victorious screech was heard above him. Chuckling as he felt his stomach lurch from the sudden change in velocity, the assassin couldn't help but smile as he felt relief finally settle in him. The whole night had been nothing but trouble and the simple fact that he'd barely managed to kill one of the biggest threats to freedom in Russia was the only real benefit that could have been reaped.
Letting his mind wander, Vlad wondered just how he had been roped into joining a secret order of assassins that had been fighting against tyrannical rule since at least the twelfth century. Some would argue that they had existed all the way back during the time of the pharaohs, but it was hard to say exactly when they started to exist as they did in modern day. Perhaps he could blame his own bad luck, or maybe he could have blamed his ancestors for giving birth to his family line. But he knew that the truth was that he wouldn't have wanted anything else once he was drawn into the amazing world he was in. To anyone else, he would be thought of as a lunatic. To the brunet, clutched in the talons of a Noivern, it was just another Wednesday night.
Author's Note: So, here's the first chapter of Pokemon's Creed. I hope you all liked it and feel free to leave a review or even just a comment. I know you all are waiting for the next chapter of my other story and I promise I am working on it. This story is going to turn out to be a longer one while Pokemon: Outer Limits is going to be a bit of a shorter work. If I feel I'm being overwhelmed with the writing, I will happily let you guys know and put whichever one is not as popular on hiatus….please don't take that as a challenge to keep them equally popular and burn me out quicker.
And just a reminder: I own nothing except the original characters. Pokemon belongs to the Pokemon Company, Assassin's Creed belongs to Ubisoft, and Russia belongs to the common man.