StaindLace: This is going to be a weird fanfic, but oh well. I'm going to ask you please forgive any 'rules' broken in the Pokemon breeding laws, because I am going to break some, such as the 'child has to be the mother's specie' rule, etc. Still, I'm going to stay true and blue to a lot of the canon info.

Naturally, I don't own Pokemon. Why do people even bother putting that in? It's kind of a given… oh well. Also, "No Leaf Clover" is owned by Metallica and Hybrid Theory is owned by Linkin Park.

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Hybrid Theory

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Chapter I: No Leaf Clover

It almost appeared to be nighttime, but it was very much a young day. The sun and the pure blue of the sky was cloaked by a shadowy barrier of storm clouds, dark as coal and revolving drunkenly, spitting ice-cold rain onto the cold winter world. It was growing increasingly frigid; the breath of the Pokemon without shelter was pluming in short, steamy puffs.

Water ran off of the dead, rot-bark trees, seeming to freeze just before it streamed onto the muddy ground. The world was in mourning, just as the lord of the Ashten Kingdom was. The weather merely reflected his insides -- as an anomaly had happened today, and one that had taken the life of the only one he cared about in the world.

Sitting on an outcrop from his throne, a sparse cave that was insulated partially by its thick stone walls and ceiling, the lord's eyes followed the skyline, which occasionally was illuminated with lightning strikes. There was grief in his eyes, a raw sadness that was also lightly masked with rage and an odd cold glint.

Behind the large doglike lord was a four-pawed fox, bright orange with a magnificent gold mane and tail, accompanied by bright inky eyes that shone like jet stones in the stormy oppression. For awhile now, since the storm had come on, he had sat and observed his sulking superior with empty, drained eyes. Now he decided it was time to discuss what had happened earlier. Stepping forward and clearing his throat, the male Flareon murmured, "My Lord… I--I apologize for--"

The much larger, more canine Pokemon turned his head away abruptly, silencing the flame Pokemon with a much deeper tone. "No need for apologies, Fyen. She lived a good life, and the Ashten Kingdom will go on, strong as ever. I will not let this slow me down."

The Flareon hesitated for a moment more, noticing the bristling dark brown pelt on the huge dog's muscular body, and the gray, smoking plume flared up in the storm-scented gale that breezed in. It wasn't wise to make Entei, Lord of the Ashten Lands, angry in any way, for he was known to have a temper akin to that of a Primeape and a Charizard combined; regardless, this young fire fox had been raised to serve the volcanic canine, and so he took far more risks with him than he should have.

"I suppose you'll remember, then, what I took from the Pokemon who buried her?" He pressed, eyes searching his master's posture. It stiffened instantly.

"We will not speak of that--" He began monotonously, but Fyen, the Flareon, jumped in.

"And why not? It needs to be addressed! If we don't at least speak of 'that', the only thing you'll have to remember Naomi by are your memories! It's not only her's, but it's your's as well!"

Fyen's vehemence startled Entei; he turned and stared the Flareon in the eyes for a moment, then sighed heavily, the smoke cape behind him seeming to still. He stared down Fyen for a moment, then growled, "It cannot be mine. You know that, Fyen. There's only one explanation for that abomination, and it's adultery. Now, I want no more talk of it here. I loved Naomi, but there's only so much of this I can take." He turned away, head lowered slightly.

Fyen shook his head.

"Lord… Naomi was faithful. I know she was. Besides, it cannot be called 'adultery'; you two were never mates."

"We trusted one another. But it is no longer our problem. Our problem is hoping this storm doesn't wash out too many of our citizens' homes," Entei murmured, avoiding the eyes of his personal servant as though he were hiding some unorthodox emotion.

Fyen's long, pointed gold ears lowered in frustration, but he could no longer argue with the rock solid Entei; instead, he half-turned before asking quietly, "So what do you want me to do with… the egg, My Lord?"

"Get rid of it."

Legendary Pokemon -- particularly those who happened to be in high power -- tended to be a bit cruel. Fyen knew this better than most Pokemon, given the fact that he and his brother and sister had been born and bred solely for the purpose of serving them. He even knew that Entei was a kinder soul than most of them; however, even now the callous way that regarded mortal Pokemon was horrendous.

Cold water slid off of Fyen's back as the rain scoured his fire-based orange pelt, but he trudged on through the ice water-filled mud holes, looking up, his black nose twitching slightly as he pulled himself out of yet another trench. Mud clung to his flanks and paws, and he felt disgusting; the sticky chunks of earth were sodden and freezing, and he didn't think he'd ever been so uncomfortable in his life.

Still, Fyen knew that if he didn't 'get rid of' the 'abomination', he would be severely scolded, possibly even punished. He wasn't in the mood to be punished; who was, ever?

In the air, two Staravia circled the treetops, shifting altitudes so as to lower the chance of lightning strike. Fyen tilted his head to call one of the silver-gray fowl Pokemon down, and as one roosted, he shook out his coat, mud and droplets of cold water dousing the Flying type.

"Uck!" He complained, giving Fyen a dark look. "Watch it, furball. I'm already wet enough. Anyways, we found her grave -- not fancy at all, of course, but it's the only one with an oddball egg on top of it."

The Flareon nodded in thanks. "Good work, then. You guys go home, get out of the storm; I'll take it from here."

The birds took off, and the Fire type leapt from stone to stone through the muggy grasslands, until he came upon a damp mound that really was not all that decorated -- the only thing distinguishing it from a natural part of the earth was the egg resting atop the muddy soil. Fyen couldn't ever remember seeing an egg like it, and he didn't think he'd ever see one like it again.

With a base of light smoky gray, very small red and yellow accents slashed themselves across it, and a loose powdering of smudged brown slid down as a third layer. Fyen wasn't stupid; the pattern was consistent with an Entei's physique, but Legendaries couldn't reproduce. He figured it was a freak genetic thing. Who knew?

Sighing, he rolled the egg from its spot atop the mound onto the soggy earth, staring at it with a melancholy he didn't expect to feel. A baby was so hard to get rid of… there was life inside this egg, life that he wanted to preserve, life that deserved to exist somewhere in this world.

Fyen, don't even think about it, he thought gravely. Entei told you to destroy this egg. He told you… He thought a moment, then smiled to himself. He told me to get rid of it. He didn't say how.

Looking around for a moment, he smirked and pushed it gently towards the opposite direction from whence he had come.

Fine. I'll get rid of it. And Entei won't even know you exist… and we'll both get to live, he thought, some lightness returning to his otherwise dark humor.

Although Fyen hadn't noticed during his mental debate, the storm abated, the sky clearing in small patches at a time. He looked up, back at the grave of Entei's lover, then down at the egg, his heart lifting a bit.

Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows, maybe Entei's missing out on something here.

Then it comes to be that the soothing light at the end of your tunnel
Was just a freight train coming your way
Then it comes to be that the soothing light at the end of your tunnel
Was just a freight train coming your way