Y's Revenge

I OWN NOTHING!!!!

Ch.1 Sons of Sukebe

Sukebe was a mad man, few argued with that, but he did have a few moments of sanity every once in a while. As he was sitting in his bunker cackling cruelly to himself as he looked over the reports that were coming in, a horrifying thought came to him. "Oh shit! Who's gunna replace me when I'm dead!"

It was a valid question, master of the genome and as powerful as he was, (and horny), he was only one man and there was no way in hell he could satisfy all those damn pokegirls and keep them non-feral, and even his more 'interesting' designs wouldn't be able to bring a feral back. So he decided that a few 'sons' would be needed to replace him when he was gone.

He immediately grabbed a sheet of paper and began to make a diagram.

A few months later…

Sukebe was staring in front of the three tanks, grinning like a loon. While he had stayed sane for a little while it didn't last too long. What he had come up with were more than a little scary.

The first tank was a man in a full suite of medieval armor. His beard was jet black and his eyes storm blue. He was about 10 feet in height and broad in the chest, clutched in his hand was one of the most powerful swords that ever had and ever did exist.

"Arthur." He whispered he then turned to the next one. In it was a man with fire red hair and drooping moustache. His clothing was highly Celtic in appearance and also clutched in his hand was one hell of a spear. He pushed a button and the heat of the tank increased as the 9 feet tall individual grew three extra feet and seemed to shape shift into some nightmare creature.

"Cuchulainn." Then he turned to the final one and probably the most powerful one of them all.

This one also had red hair (you're WRONG MARVEL!) but had a red beard as well as a moustache. He was easily the most massive one at 14 feet and wore a stereotypical Viking outfit. In his hand was a hammer that seemed to crackle lighting and also looked big enough to smash a tank.

"Thor." He grinned, "My sons, grooms of my daughters, warriors, kings, gods!" He then turned around and flipped a switch. A light turned on that revealed a huge cavern with three platforms of tanks of around 10000 each. "Of course what king is without a champion, his nobles, their lieutenants, and the loyal grunts?"

He then started to laugh as he closed the security gate behind him and went on to the surface, none not even Macavity or Jenovah knew of this place or even had an inkling of what he was up to. Even if they found out, and didn't like it, well, anyone of the three could take on Typhona, and the only way to kill any of them is for the other two to work together.

He continued to laugh when KAAAAABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Sukebe was dead and his last work was in cryogenic storage unawake. (un?)Luckily the batteries weren't eternal but they would be long in the dying.

300 years later…

A visitor to the cave of the sons of Sukebe, would have seen the monitor that kept them in suspended animation finally fade and in the central group of tanks a grunt class of Cuchulainn, who looked like a brawny Celtic man, squirm for a moment then flash open his eyes.

Two months later… small Blue League town…

Marcus MacToven was with his pokegirl, a catgirl named Sylva, as they were heading back in from the coast from a fishing expedition. Out of the blue there was a great horn sound coming from the coast. Then the bellow of male voices preparing for battle could be heard. It was a sound that had not been heard for a long time. He and Sylva ran back to the coast and saw something that made his blood run cold. Five massive wooden ships, each easily 80 ft. long, they were powered by large square sails and long oars were in use. What made him shudder was the large dragon shaped carvings that adorned each of the prows of the ships.

While more horrible things had been seen in recent years, blood remembered and at the core of his being a single name and a single prayer bubbled from the tail of his brain. "From the Fury of the Northmen, Oh God, Deliver Us! Vikings!!!"

A wild fear tore through his gut and he turned to Sylva and shouted, "Sylva, Run!" Then he tore down the road in horror at speeds that would even impress a cheetit. Sylva ran after her master wondering what could have scared him so much. She soon ran after him shouting "Master! Wait up!"

They soon reached their home town he was shouting at the top of his lungs, "Help! Help! We're under attack!" A few older men and pokewomen decided to see what he was going crazy for.

"What's attacking us?" The town mayor asked.

"Huge men in Dragon Ships! Vikings!!!"

At that moment a huge bellowing warcry was heard and a horde of huge men that wielded weapons even most pokegirls would have a hard time with came charging down the road.

One Peekabu immediately fired off a bolt of lightning that seared toward the men, confidant that it would easily fry the crazy bastards. That satisfaction practically melted of her face when most of them shrugged the attack like it was nothing. Then something else horrible happened. One particularly large one paused for a moment then, hurled his spear that he had in one hand that quickly turned into a bolt of lightning itself that hurled towards the village defenders. When it struck, there was a massive explosion of electricity that whitened out the village folks sight, when they could see again they found that the huge raiders where already amongst them. A few fighter types managed to fight back for a moment before being overwhelmed by the raw strength and ferocity of the raiders.

Snorri was a Norse Warrior, the bottom rung of his line, but he was strong and proud of his place in the world, to be able to serve such mighty Huscarls was wonderful along with his other fellow Norse Warriors. As they rounded up the pokegirls and pokewomen he shouted out in praise as their Jarl Eric Lightning-Spear strode by.

Standing at nine and a half ft. in height he was bigger than any of his eight ft. Huscarls or six and a half to seven ft. Norse Warriors, his blonde hair was seen under the horned helm that was the insignia of his type. Eric surveyed the village and a huge toothy grin was one his face as he watched the pokegirls and pokewomen. He then strode up towards a Boobisaur that was quite well developed. He knelt down to her height and leered at the girl as she glared at the brute that had killed her Tamer.

"Who are you? Why did you do this?" She wheezed out between gasps of pain and utter sorrow.

Eric grinned and said, "I am Eric Lightning-Spear, Jarl of this Nordic Warband. We are warriors who are sworn to follow our God King Thor All-Fathersson. As for why…We are men are we not and most of us prefer a girl whose idea of a meal and a well kept home is warm meat and a warm hall instead of roots berries and a wet whole in the ground with leaves." The others listening laughed their heads off and made whistles and cat calls in response to the Jarl's words.

Eric then grabbed and hefted the poke girl over his shoulder and walked onwards towards the coast. The Nodics cheered and grabbed a girl each and marched for the ships, anything of value also with them.

I KNOW THIS ISN'T THE NORMAL POKEGIRL STORY BUT HEY, ORGINALITY IS THE SPICE OF LIFE! Also I'm not going to go into the pokegirl descriptions look em' up yourself!