Aiyaiyai…. I'd actually been intending on writing this MONTHS ago. The original was lost to an old account with a forgotten 'word, unfortunately. So. I'm pretty much just going to start from where I left off with a few minor alterations.

By the way, this sort of takes place post-Temporal Tower events, in more ways than one. I'll probably end up writing most of it from first person.

Anyways, removing the virginity of this account. Woo hoo! Thought the day would never come.

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Prologue://

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Damn it.

Damn it all.

I watched my opponent's humorless gaze lock immediately upon me as I stumbled forward. It'd seem my legs failed me once again. The old wound had come back to haunt me. Perhaps a motive of Arceus's to tilt the scales of battle, hindering success in the battle between "good" and "evil".

Who's to honestly say what the two great opposites are anyway? Everyone has their own opinion of the meaning. It's my belief that if you've done what you think is right, you've done "Good". Hence, I suppose we would be fighting "good" Pokemon at the moment. The famed rescue team that had supposedly saved the world—Twice.

Though that would mean we were "bad". I'd deny wholeheartedly the falsehood of this- we were only supporting the truth in this matter. A truth that may have protected us all from the disaster at large. The ugly truth, as you might call it, but a truth of well meaning intentions.

The truth that nobody wants to know.

" ….. Darkrai caused so much pain. We merely did what we had to. Please think not poorly of me for my actions." The monotonous voice of that… Pikachu, if she really could be called that, The "Silent Hero" who fought by Cresselia's side, rang in my ears as she stepped towards me. While she may have been a human in a Pokemon's skin, she certainly wasn't very humane about the situation at hand.

Her eyes appeared hollow, her lips tightened, her cheeks dancing with unmeasured volts of electricity. Dark clouds began to gather above. There was no mistaking it- she was planning my end- though of course, I had been paralyzed quite easily, and had no option but to simply make futile attempts to return movement to my limbs and glare.

"We COULD let this go, you know… You could easily walk out of here alive." She murmured, glancing sharply over to where he presently sat. The being in question returned her look in a dumbfounded manner, completely baffled by what was going on around him. He could not defend his cause, for he did not remember.

Yet that Pikachu did not want him around- regardless of her attempts, her ability to overpower him with ease, the Nightmare Pokemon had refused to join her. He was merely an obstruction to her work as he wandered aimlessly throughout the ruined world.

Darkrai.

"AGH!"

My head jolted away from certain doom for just an instant- enough time to see the one Pokemon that had truly stood by me through all of this thrown harshly into one of the rocky walls of the dungeon we were hosting this scuffle within.

He didn't stand- rather, he shook violently as he remained collapsed face down, ice crystals climbing their way up any surface that would chill him from the inside out. Nearby, Cresselia smirked to herself… Bitch. Karma'd make her pay someday for taking enjoyment in my fallen comrade, should I be unable to beat it to the punch.

"Dio!"

Just as I found myself screaming in a sort of half-hearted attempt to rouse him from where I lay, I was thunderstruck. He might have replied, I'm not quite sure- though I heard somebody yelling for me as I allowed myself to be seized by the electricity surging through my body, clawing away at whatever will I had left to defend myself.

"…da!..."

It was in last few minutes of consciousness that I realized the irony… Isn't it strange how one's end can be so like one's beginning? We are born with our eyes closed, the same way as most of us die in a similar manner.

My case was similar, I suppose. My beginning started with an unknown voice as well…

I don't remember why I was standing out in the middle of the street that day.

I've tried thinking about it, but all that comes to mind was a bunch of empty blanks. Clouds, I remember- the sky was cloudy that day. People were bustling about their drab grey suits, yammering away on their cell phones, running around with bags heavy with more useless merchandise. Yet somehow, they all manage to balance overflowing cups of pricy coffee in their hands. The usual city scene.

Last thing I really remember from the experience was a blinding flash of light, pain that could be compared to the present as far as intensity, and someone yelling my name. I suppose I might have misheard- "Jada" could be made out as gibberish no matter how you look at it. On that note, there were about five people I knew that would have still remembered it at the present date, and none of them were present.

I apologize for rambling, my imaginary friend. This must all seem unbearably puzzling. So! I'll start from the beginning.

After all, I have all the time in the world to explain now…

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//: To Be Continued