So I decided to write more of this, since the couple of reviews I did get seemed positive, which I'm very very grateful for. So this is the first chapter, it is quite short, but it gets what I needed said in this. Please review if you want, as it would be greatly appreciated and I'll try and get Chapter 2 started as soon as possible.


The sun was rising above the horizon, bathing the trees in its magnificent orange glow. The scurrying of insects and other creatures preparing to rest for the day, was only matched by the sound of other creatures awakening. It was still too early for most people to be awake, but that had never bothered Alastair before. He preferred this time of day, sitting out on Route 24, watching the Pokémon run around in the fields, and swim in the river under the bridge. The lights from Cerulean City, still dimly flickering in the distance, he would spend the first few hours of every day watching them. He often wished he had a Pokémon of his own, but at 18 years old it seemed unlikely he would ever get one again. It had been 7 years since his first, and only Pokémon had been taken from him, with his trainer's licence, 7 years of regretting what he had done.

At 10 years old, the Kanto league allows a person to apply for a Pokémon Trainers licence, and is allowed to be given their first Pokémon to look after, and train and grow with. Alastair had been given a Grimer, by his parents. However, with a few other boys his age, Alastair joined a gang, and eventually was caught by the Cerulean Police Force and charged with assaulting a person with a Pokémon. Grimer was taken from him immediately and his licence was revoked. It was strongly suggested that Alastair did not bother to apply for another licence as misuse of Pokémon was a serious offence, and only if the League decided that he had truly earned a second chance, would he be allowed to apply again.

So at 18 years old, Alastair was one of the very few who did not have a Pokémon companion, a fact he wished most desperately to change. Staring at the pale orange light on the horizon, Alastair stood, stretched and sighed, before picking up his bike and beginning the ride back home. Perhaps it was for the best he did not have a Pokémon right now though. There had been some terrifying stories recently, about a group of trainers attacking trainers, and more specifically Gym Leaders, some of whom had been found weeks later, wounded and sick on roadsides far from their home towns. He had overheard a rumour that the leader of the Viridian Gym, had claimed to have been tortured for 4 days before he finally gave in and relinquished his Pokémon to the mysterious group.

There had always been groups who acted like that in the world though. In Kanto and Johto there had been Team Rocket, who seemed to want to steal everything, and other groups had other agendas, in Unova, there had recently been a Team Plasma, a group set on freeing Pokémon from their oppressive human masters. This new team seemed different though, they didn't want to free the Pokémon, or steal them for themselves, but from what Alastair could gather, they seemed to want to shut down the league itself. Shaking his head he pedalled faster, heading straight for home. His parents would be awake soon, and if they knew he had snuck out, they would throw all sorts of accusations about.


Very few places in Kanto, were as secluded and dangerous as the ruins of Cinnabar Island. After the Volcano finally erupted years ago, people had stopped coming to see it, even the Pokémon centre had been abandoned now, for fear of the Volcano erupting again. That wasn't a problem for Him, however, he welcomed the risk, and the seclusion. People wouldn't look for Him here, or anyone else that was brought to Him, it was the perfect place to hide, especially now people were hunting for Him. He had done a lot in the last year, with His army of followers, He had attacked, tortured and broken the spirits of trainers and Gym Leaders alike around the continent, but it was not going unnoticed. Rumours of who He was had reached him, all inaccurate but He was glad that he was getting somewhere. He chuckled at the most recent rumour, in Viridian City, they seemed positive it He was Giovanni, the disgraced leader of Team Rocket, beaten twice, by children.

He ran His hands over the Pokéballs at his belt, all 5 were still there. Even through the Pokéballs He could feel the Pokémons emotions, they all felt the same, and agreed with Him. It was nearly time for the next phase of his plan. Once 4 of the 8 Kanto Gyms had closed their doors, the League would take notice, when trainers stopped coming to their doors. Staring at a map of Kanto, he nodded, Cerulean's Leader would be next.


As Alastair sped round the corner onto his street, he knew something wasn't right. Police cars lined the street and there was a crowd of people milling about outside his house. Stopping and getting off his bike, Alastair began to push his way through the crowd, struggling to get to his front door. As he reached the edge of the crowd his heart sank. His mother was on her knees, clinging to the arm of a police officer, sobbing desperately. Alastair sprinted towards her and grabbed her hand, staring at the officer, confused and scared.

"Ah...Alistair..." The officer began, his voice faltering

"Officer, what the hell is going on here!"

"I'm so sorry son, it's your father. He was found dead this morning..."

Alistair sank to his knees next to his mother, his eyes filling up, "What...do you mean...?"

"We, believe he was murdered. Possibly by the same group that took the Viridian Leader. One of his Pokémon...was found dead in front of the Gym next to him..."

Alastair choked, looking for words, his thoughts scrambling around, looking for anything which made sense. This couldn't be right, his Father was a Gym Leader, one of the top trainers in Kanto, how could he have been killed.

The officer coughed, "I'm so sorry Alastair..." he cleared his throat again, almost as if he was tearing up himself, "Your Father was a good man and a good friend to many of us...if there is anything we can do...please let us know."

Alastair could do nothing but nod. The words still not making sense to him, it was impossible, and illogical. His mothers' crying was the only real thing he could hear, and that made it worse. His father was gone, and there was nothing Alastair could do.

The sun, as if sensing the mood hanging over Cerulean City, disappeared behind a dark cloud, as rain started to fall. If it had been any other time, Alastair would have grunted at the coincidence, right now, the only thing he could think about was his mother, and finding the man responsible for their loss.