"That's all?" Mizuki asked, sighing deeply. Of course the hunters hung out near Fuschia, not Cerulean, but she didn't think they'd be that rare. "Okay, anyone played a first person shooter? Arcade experience is preferable, but I'll take what I can get." Haiiro rubbed his eyes as he heard Mizuki's announcement, trying to force himself awake. The relentless drilling of the last day might've brought physical fitness given enough time, but time was sorely lacking for the pokemon world. He stared down at his shirt, a cerulean shade of blue, still wearing the pair of pants and shoes he had on when trudged through Mount Moon. The army needed uniformity, but it could only afford so many uniforms.

"Haruna would've loved it here." he thought, wondering why she had been at Wisteria in the first place. She belonged in this gym, or floating around and challenging trainers in the waters of Cinnabar. Not at some lackluster school in the mountains that didn't even have a swimming pool, a school where she had to fill up crater's with her pokemon's water gun and had no one to swim with. It seemed so stupid, her being there in the first place - she should've been somewhere else, somewhere she wouldn't have to die. But then again, if she didn't... maybe someone else would've.

Wary of getting too far lost in his thoughts, Haiiro took a look around at his fellow soldiers; the two thousand or so men and women of Cerulean and surrounding towns who knew how to handle a pokemon and were prepared to lay down their lives. They were staring to the front where Mizuki stood in her dripping swimsuit, her body as athletic as it would be if she swam every day with her pokemon – she probably did.

At her question, seven trainers nervously stepped forward, directed by Mizuki to an attractive, orange-haired young woman with the oversized chest of a Kukaku or an Orihime.

"That's not nearly enough, but I suppose it's to be expected. Nintendo hasn't had a decent shooter since GoldenEye and other consoles are so obscure around here. Anyone good at Metroid?"

About thirty more trainers of about his age stepped forward, standing with somewhat more confidence than the last group but still plenty unnerved – just what exactly was Mizuki gonna have them do?

"Fine, fine, I suppose I'll pick the rest." The leader complained, pointing randomly into the crowd. "Now, if any of you really suck at multitasking or your pokemon need really specific direction, tell me so I can pick someone else." As she continued her picks, a few of the soldiers volunteered such information, mentioning their recently-caught Scyther or the careful battle strategies mandated by their Clefairy.

"And Haiiro-kun! That should finish it off." She yelled. Haiiro fell over with shock, but quickly recovered to join the large-chested, swimsuit-clad woman and her newly assigned soldiers on the way out the back door and out behind the gym.

The last time the ashen-haired trainer had seen this small spot of land (which he only had when walking past it, peering through the barrier) it was nothing to merit interest. It was a plot of dirt and grass, but the grass wasn't tall enough for pokemon to hide. He had always thought of it as walled-off, useless space, and couldn't even comprehend why anyone had deemed it worthwhile to wall it off in the first place.

Now, barbed wire surrounded them on three sides, presumably to look cool as much as to have any actual military usage. The trainers – soldiers, now - were cordoned off in an area which seemed small next to the enormous gym, although it was big enough to be divided into seventy carefully numbered shooting booths, all a good distance away, filled with targets on the walls, various trees and boulders and changes in elevation and Pidgey gliding past complicating any attempt for clear shots at their targets.

"This is a gun." The orange-haired woman said, holding out the weapon for all to see; a large slender device made of metal, seeming as though it would be hoisted on the shoulder, with a small trigger near the back and an attached trapezoidal portion much wider than the rest of the device. "We have seventy-one of them. When used properly, they can be a powerful weapon, and most pokemon can be felled by a single hit – some will take more shots than others, some will die in one blow, it all depends on how sturdy they are. But you can mess up even an Onix pretty badly if you can hit it in the eye or shoot the segments just right and even a Charizard can't take more than a few bullets."

As a demonstration, the trainer looked skyward and caught sight of a small orange balloon, adjusted the barrel as it stood on her shoulder and pulled the device's trigger. A projectile sped out of the gun's barrel, Haiiro's eyes struggling to keep up with its speed. After a split-second, a hole penetrated the balloon, which whipped around from lack of air before falling behind a small hill in the confusing terrain behind the gym. The woman carefully unlocked an opening in the barbed wire, slid it to the side and walked through to retrieve the fallen balloon. As she glanced at it, she small target painted on its center had been missed by five whole inches, the hole being at the balloon's very top.

"If any of you were paying attention, I have just demonstrated the proper way with which to fire a gun. Note the importance of aim: there haven't been any real battles yet and we might just be firing into a charging horde, but if it's another aerial attack or a small, fast group of raiders you're gonna need it. And keep in mind that under battle conditions, hitting a Charizard's eye is even harder than hitting this balloon...and even a blinded Charizard sometimes maintains its sanity and battles by smell or hearing."

"But aren't those senses obscured during battle?" One trainer asked.

"So is sight." Another responded.

"It's tempting to go for the one-hit KO, and if we had better guns I'd be all for it. But Cerulean City only has so many goods to barter, and everyone's sticking to their own towns these days... and in the smoke of battle, when flames heat the air and warp your bullets, sometimes what's most important is to just hit the enemy and give 'em some damage. Keep this in mind when you're fighting." She said, stepping aside as a giant table emerged from the ground, the rifles on it piled so high as to tower over the shorter soldiers, Haiiro included.

Haiiro slowly approached the weapon, curious as to its touch, but with a certain determination and almost uncharacteristic lack of nervousness: "At least this way I can fight alongside my pokemon." As he placed his hand on the weapon, he was numbed by a cold which seemed even greater than the mountain's and his fingers froze to the steel.

"Shape up!" The large-chested woman shouted, watching the people struggle with the rifle – looking around, Haiiro noted that his newfound comrades weren't doing all that much better. His hands slowly adjusting to the weapon's feel, he attempted to lift it, straining with all his muscle as though pulling the gun from the table would show him to be some sort of destined hero.

It barely budged. Haiiro found himself slowly inching it off the table, then lifting it slowly to his shoulder, feeling like he was going to tear his elbow as he strained.

"You'll get used to it, I hope." The instructor said.

"Don't you have any lighter guns?" Another trainer asked. The orange-haired "general" shook her head.

A couple hours passed, their earlier mission of gun training fast diverged into one in the lifting of heavy objects. The general, a self-proclaimed 'munitions expert' by the name of Mizuo (who did have a few Blastoise and a certain love of explosions, in fairness) sighed and considered going out to bug her younger sister, asking her to find stronger trainers instead of just this random and ill-thought selection, but thought better of it. Mizuki didn't like being disturbed even in peacetime.

He still had to strain a bit, but the gun was on Haiiro's shoulder and he could even move a few steps by now, although he still felt about as mobile as a cannon. Heck, cannons seemed like they'd work better, the way things were going - they'd be better than this group, anyway.

Mizuo gave her orders again, and he moved his gun to shoot, stopping three of the ten automated Rattata from breaking through his lines and firing two harmless bullets into the makeshift mechanical Charizard.

The invasion was scheduled for tomorrow, and Haiiro for one wasn't going to stop practicing – they only had so many guns, and even in Lavender one could really use artillery: maybe this gave better cover fire than a Squirtle using water gun. That said, when humans had come to rule the world in that longago era, Haiiro reasoned, they couldn't possibly have done it using weapons this heavy.


"So... why Rapidash? They're not particularly effective against apocalypse cultists, are they?" Haiiro asked. The gun training had been completed(for the day), and while his aim was still a bit lacking, he at least felt that he could handle it without being weighed down so completely as to render him irrelevant in combat.

Which was good, because there was a very real possibility that he'd have to use it soon – it all depended on how Mizuki wanted them to "secure" Vermilion city and what the current situation was in Kanto's greatest port.

But now, pacing through the barracks, he found himself standing before a stable of Rapidash, wondering if he'd have to learn to ride such temperamental beasts in a day, to say nothing of how they'd be used. "Are we gonna have to learn how to ride them?"

"You can't learn how to handle a Rapidash or a Pidgeot that fast, and most will only obey their trainer. The battle for Lavender will have to be won without any artillery..."

"Couldn't we have just given guns to the people who already knew how to ride them?"

"Everybody makes mistakes." Mizuo answered, her face acquiring a somber and downcast tone. "Even Mizuki-sama. But at the same time... I don't think we'll need guns."

"Why not?"

"Because Rapidash are seriously powerful beasts." She began, pondering for a little while as Haiiro remained silent, as though he awaited her story. "There is a land across the sea from the pokemon world, a land where weaker 'animals' dot the land – birds, mice, fish, but none of them with any special powers; just a few small poisonous snakes and predators with nothing beyond bite and slash.

That land is much, much bigger than our own, and one might say it is notorious for its warfare, or maybe it's just that we've had peace so long that we've forgotten that war is human nature. The horse is the animal there from which Ponyta and Rapidash evolved – they're basically like them, only brown and without any neat abilities. Since the dawn of warfare, as far back as historical records go, humans in that land have ridden horses into battle to carve out empires.

Once, there were a people who carved out a great empire – I think they were called Mongols. The empire spawned from a tribe of nomadic horsemen who learned to fire arrows from moving horses, and their military conquered almost all the great nations of the land across the sea – and so, one of their rulers turned east and sent a fleet to attack the Pokemon world.

Now, this was a very long time ago. The people heard of these attacks in advance and prayed with all they had, and Lugia answered their prayers and sank most of their fleet. But keep in mind that 'mostly' can be a relative term when we're talking about such a huge army. When they got to Kanto, they still had twice as many cavalry as we did.

The soldiers faced them on an open plain, just horseman against horseman, one side outnumbered two-to-one, no infantry in sight. On one side rode the Mongols on their horses, on the other a crew of heavily armored samurai on their Rapidash, looking outnumbered and doomed despite all their prayers, but prepared with their discipline to go nobly to death in defense of their world and emperor."

"What happened in the fight?" Haiiro asked.

"Well, you see... horses can't learn Hyper Beam. The moment the Mongols charged, the samurai drew their swords, gave their orders, and watched as the bulk of the army was engulfed in beams of orange light. A few survived, but they couldn't avoid the Rapidash flames and their horses couldn't get away fast enough, and they were quickly encircled and slaughtered. It was a defeat so devastating that the Mongols for the rest of their history never even touched the Pokemon lands, so devastating that the very memory of it prevented any outside force from attacking our lands... until now. Maybe."

"You think it's an outside force?"

"I don't know. And human technology has certainly improved: I've heard they've got stuff that could keep up with even the toughest pokemon – and yeah, I'm counting Lugia and Mewtwo in this. It won't be impossible for them to defeat us...but it won't be easy, either."

"Yeah, but... who says it's them? Why couldn't it be one of us? There are still people here who hate the world" he said, getting a sudden, painful flash of Shiro, "and still people who want only power. Let's face it, news doesn't exactly travel well here. This could be some brutal war waging in Johto spilling over here, or maybe the Cinnabar volcano's erupting at last and its driven the locals mad, or there's another Rocket-like group of maniacs making their bid for power. We don't know... we're sworn to kill them, and we still don't know!"

"Calm down, Haiiro-san..." Mizuo said firmly, then muttered under her breath "but yeah, it annoys me too."


Like most people in Lavender Town, Sunako was what the outside world would typically describe as a "goth". Not that her outfits or appearance particularly merited it (while she was dark-haired, she preferred the gray of Gastly smoke to actual black) but she did have a certain fascination with the occult, the macabre, death and whatever came next.

The town in many ways suited this. How much could one love life, when the hometown itself was based so strongly around death? Not only was it filled with the elderly, enough that it was oft-derided as "the afterlife's waiting room," but where most cities had gyms, its main attractions were a cemetery and a tower home to the teeming spirits of the dead. Growing up there had shaped her: while many people struck out for their pokemon journeys or other pleasures in life, she had come to see life as a sad, mournful, and loss-filled existence, and had developed quite an interest in whatever lay beyond.

Had.

But like many other people in Lavender town, paradoxical as it seemed, she had found in death a reason for her continued existence. The humor of the gallows, the friendly spirits she had communed with at the tower, her beloved Misdreavus and the great stories that had been crafted around the subject of death and undeath – she wasn't at all eager to leave those behind.

But others were.

For many, many years, to speak of Lavender Town had been to speak of Lavender Tower. The pokemon cemetery was an attraction, but the tower dwarfed it and it seemed of little value to focus on the bodies of the departed when their souls were waiting there just above. Yes, there were some who questioned the existence of ghosts, declared the creatures in the tower illusions and invented a new class of "smog-type pokemon" to explain creatures like Gastly and Duskull, but for most it was an eye-opening experience to the supernatural – well, that and the suffering of many a Cubone.

Sunako didn't think of herself as a kindred spirit to the Cubone, although she had spent about as much time at the tower as they did. Her family had been alive and well into very recently, and if she was orphaned, it was only by the world of the living.

Didn't.

A couple days ago, everything had fallen apart. First came the Alakazam, whose mental power beat the various spirits which had come to defend it. They had struck too fast and teleported away too soon for most of Lavender's people to get out in time to fight. And when they left, they had taken Lavender Tower with them.

Without it, the city had plunged into chaos. The city council, normally quiet, had become a scene of furious debate. Some argued for quickly constructing a new tower, others shouting back that it was a waste of time – it would only be stolen again. Some wanted to join with Cerulean and fight, others thought Mizuki incompetent or power-hungry and didn't believe she could fight as far as the Alakazam had fled. Some wanted to live on, others felt everything was lost: Sunako had seen so many suicides in town that she had lost track of the deaths.

And worse, even under communism, tough times led to religion. And the religion which sprang up in this moment of collapse was not the sort of faith that strengthens the living or provides for inner peace. It's God was Giratina, it's saints were Mao and Robespierre, but warped versions who killed not for ideals, but to feed Giratina in exchange for rewards after death, who saw in the loss of the tower an apocalypse and sought a murderous frenzy before it was too late.

The Church of Giratina had gained many adherents. But many, many others chose to live. The faithful had to fight their way through pokemon after pokemon, and this with the local Joy refusing to heal "death cultists" and them being no better armed than the rest of the townspeople. They took their knives and their ghosts, but so did their victims, and the fights were fierce and bloody, slaying even the undead. Parents lost children, children lost families, trainers sacrificed beloved Gastly and Larvitar to escape with their own lives. The city council didn't approve, but neither they nor the Jennies could do anything about it. Before long, the church was in control and the massacre was underway.

Most had fled. The road to Cerulean had become flooded with exiles, as had the southern one which could lead to either Vermilion or Fuschia, and the raids for sacrifices and slaves to rebuild Lavender Tower had driven neighboring small towns away as well. Others resisted, fighting a losing battle to protect the lives of themselves and bring life to the city, but it was more a futile insurrection than a civil war, one more focused on guerilla curses and confuse rays than pokemon-to-pokemon combat. They hoped only to ensure that when an army came, they'd have something left to liberate.

Sunako had ignored them, however: the insurrectionists spoke of life, but their losing fight only brought more death. She was of the opinion that they should either try to escape without getting caught (not a particularly tall task: the high priest was prone to slaughtering refugees, but the percentage she actually managed to slay was minuscule) or wait for the moment of mass suicide and everyone's second thoughts to suddenly rise in rebellion.

Yet like the rebels, she had stayed behind. She couldn't say why, exactly – she was certainly lacking in will, but "too lazy" was hardly an adequate explanation. She had looked out often, trying to plot her moment, trying to get away safely... was she afraid? But staying behind was scarier, and it wasn't as though her life was safe in this town: they kept her alive to rebuild the tower, but when it came down to it, Giratina needed souls.

"If you can't think of a reason, why not leave?" Part of her told her, or maybe it was just Misdreavus messing with her brain.

"Why not?" She asked back, but did not move, getting a sudden foreboding feeling as she looked out on the empty road; was this the path to her doom? Would she make it to Cerulean alive, find her life drained away by some ghost's curse, or be lulled to sleep and given horrific dreams from which she could never awaken?

Maybe she was afraid.

Sighing, Sunako lifted another brick, bringing it to the six-foot high foundation, slowly rebuilding Lavender Tower, then gave the road another longing glance, only to see it engulfed in a galloping sea of white with tufts of red.. The sea slowed, coming to a complete stop, and the horde of Cerulean soldiers on Rapidash came into view, a flock of Pidgeot flying above them, watching.

The moment their mounts stopped, the trainers opened their pokeballs, releasing an assembly as massive as it was disorganized, everything from Kingler to Bellsprout gathered, waiting only for their orders to seize the city.

"People of Lavender..." A young woman in a purple swimsuit began, carrying the Cascade Flag from atop the red jewel of her swiftly spinning Starmie which floated a few feet above the ground, "You have suffered greatly. Your tower has been stolen from you, and in your grief you have fallen to the Cult of Death. But fear not – your nightmare is over! We come not as conquerors, but as liberators, and we shall triumph in this great step towards freeing the pokemon world! For this reason, I call upon all who wish to live to take up arms and join me in freeing your hometown!"

"Our town has lost its spirit. Mind your own business and go back to the city: you don't know what it's like here. We always were living at death's gate, if not quite on the brink" One of the priests said, and many of the elderly townsfolk (and quite a few of the younger ones) nodded in agreement, "so is it so wrong to take the next step and make our community a ghost town once again? It is what we have chosen."

"No one has the right to choose death for innocent people. For life!" She yelled, and at this the flaming horses poured into the city.

"My only regret is that you attacked before our home in the next world could be completed." The high priest said emotionlessly, staring through the eye-holes of her wispy mask with an unblinking determination which terrified the riders more than a Gyarados' ferocity. "

"Fuck you and fuck your tower!" Sunako recognized the voice, sympathizing with the rage, and looked up to the sky at the Pidgeot-riding trainer. His name was Shinta. He had never quite fit in this town; his Altaria's shining blue skin seemed to be an assault to everything the place stood for, and while he did train himself up a Shedinja and paid his respects at the tower, the elders had never really approved. Whenever it seemed like things were getting too cheery, they had always taken violent measures to return the city to the gloom that had become its identity – that, or his ever-calm Altaria suddenly picked a fight and imbibed an almost fatal amount of Gengar venom in the fight without even a detectable trace of spiritual wounding, among other incidents. (Sure, the 'official mediums' had given their analysis, but neither Sunako nor Shinta were quite that gullible: the schools had given them sufficient training of their own to know just what had been done.) And this tragedy aside, his treatment by recent events had not been a kind one - his mother had died at the hands of the cultists, her body left torn apart in his home, and the council had quickly scapegoated his younger brother and given him "punishment in kind" for his "crime."

The Pidgeot's talon unclenched itself and three Voltorb fell, their explosions blasting apart the walls of the new tower's foundation leaving only three fainted bodies as the residents of Lavender town quickly threw their pokeballs and the Rapidash charged into the city. Their ghostly forms slowly appeared despite the daylight, flooding the town with so many spirits that it seemed as though, the tower having suddenly vanished, its tenants had decided to haunt the city instead.

For a moment, everything seemed still as Sunako watched the other ghosts: the cultists were only so many and just which side were the others planning to attack? The scene slowly began to warp before her as the field was covered in darkness and enormous beasts appeared between the charging army and the townspeople, a combination of hideous, unearthly abominations and fantastic beasts both real and fictional – a Tyranitar, a Venustoise, a towering, three-headed draconic monstrosity which seemed like a fourth form of Charizard, and even a roaring Entei.

Spooked by this sight, most of the Rapidash bucked their riders and ran back to Cerulean, while several others with slower pokemon found themselves running for their lives at their much slower speeds. Another Venustoise appeared, this one on the Rapidash's side, firing its cannons to swamp the three-headed Char-type beast and wrapping its wet vines around its kindred fused beast, which retaliated by vine-whipping its cannon.

As she watched the (good) Venustoise's doomed struggle and the Pidgeot flap their wings furiously, futilely trying to gust away the illusions, it became clear to Sunako that this was it. Life or death. She never seemed to find the time to run, but the time to fight was nigh. "Misdreavus, incapacitate the new leader!"

Her order had been heard, and many a Dusclops and Gengar stared at her with spiraling eyes. Sunako stubbornly shut her eyes to avoid sleep, a lesson the relatively weak Cerulean army had apparently never learned, if the few trainers and Goldeen she saw slowly dozing off until she forced her eyes shut were any indication.

"Curse!" the leader ordered, and invisible to Sunako's closed eyes, the ghosts stabbed themselves in unison, grayish-black blood pouring onto the illusion-darkened plain. The Army of Cerulean watched, eyes widening in horror and disturbed disgust, but none of them fled, although a few experienced pokemon retreated to get themselves out of range.

And then the leader's Mismagius began to sing its slow, haunting melody.

3.

Sunako recognized the song, but it had always seemed more muted when her own pokemon had battled. Within the battle, a pained shriek made it clear that her Misdreavus had been defeated – she hoped it was only knocked out.

2.

Their hypnosis failed, the ghosts tried another means of handling Sunako, and the girl fell to her knees, screaming in abject horror in a yell which pierced the darkness and chilled even some of the ghosts of the battlefield.

1.

"It's perish song! The leader's Mismagius is using perish song!" A voice called out from the Cerulean side and through the massive, deadly clash of pokemon and swords, a courageous young meowth stepped into the fray and vanished.

0.

They had survived. Most of them. Battles always had their casualties, of course, and this one was far from over, but the melody had not caused them all to suddenly perish in unison. The song had been broken by a pained squeal from the large-hatted pokemon and its spirit finally departed the world.

But the battle continued through the song, and it still was not going well for the Cerulean force. While each of the ghosts had been wounded, the wounds were not incapacitating ones, and compared to the slow draining it had brought many an enemy pokemon made it a worthwhile sacrifice. The morale of most Rapidash had been broken. What remained of their army was outnumbered, encircled, fighting an enemy which phased in and out of sight.

"This isn't working. Fire!" The water general yelled, and the few Rapidash did, boiling the ghosts away in an enormous inferno. Friend caught behind the lines or foe, native or foreigner, the people fled in chaos, trying to find somewhere to quench the flames as Lavender burned.

Or at least, those who were still standing ran away. The water general, a younger sister of Mizuki, made a solid effort to gather the troops and water gun everyone still melting in flames, but the force of the aquatic torrents gave a fatal blow to many of those it was meant to help, and many who survived the fire did so only to be drowned by the water.

When the ghastly fog cleared, many of the defeated returned to working on Lavender Tower and reluctantly accepting (or trying to poke out the eyes of) Cerulean's administration, although between the deaths, the damage suffered, and the fact that the occupiers were more interested in gaining soldiers than public works, construction was proceeding slower than ever. Many other trainers, the leaders of the Giratina faith most prominently among them, killed themselves on the spot, taking out their knives or ordering it of their pokemon, all of whom reluctantly, tearfully complied. Trying to take the opportunity to win some friends in her new domain and restore the motivation to live, the youngest of the Cerulean sisters directed her pokemon to join in the rebuilding.

Tormented by the faith, knocked out by the townspeople's ghosts, and finally incinerated by her "liberators," Sunako, to Shinta's grave disappointment, was nowhere to be found.


By the time Lavender fell, the main army of Cerulean was already halfway to their target, the road intact and secure as they passed by the walled city of Saffron. The Rapidash were speeding back, further behind on the route but quickly making up the distance. The Pidgeot had already landed and, with their trainers, begun to fly overhead as scouts. A few of them stayed in Lavender, of course; the town had to be garrisoned – but the army's numbers were swelling, clogging the route as they approached Vermilion City.

Personally, Haiiro had come to find the march boring and cumbersome, and had kept himself amused through imaginations of the battle to come, holding his gun as he shot alongside Squirtle to take down their Charizard and avenge his village. He would've made conversation with Eiji, but he was standing far over in the main group, and the other artillery men he called comrades seemed not to be particularly talkative, or perhaps it was simply that they were too sullen and saddened to make conversation.

The legion continued their march as the road grew more cracked, taking time out to engage in a few repairs and smooth it over, killing a couple bandits (or at least, Mizuki was insisting they were bandits) along the way until they reached the point where the road was gone and Vermilion City in sight.

The army stopped for a little while, waiting for further orders; the road was secure, wasn't it?

"Shouldn't we be leaving troops behind to guard the road, instead of sending the whole army?" One of the soldiers asked.

"We don't have the manpower." Mizuki answered. "What's important now is to make a show of force."

"Well, the road's secured... do we turn back?" The gym leader shook her head.

"No. This stretch of the road is secure, as are those we have trod over, but the road does not extend merely to Vermilion!" She said, pointing out to the harbor as they stood at the city gate. "Can Vermilion alone supply our food needs until we get the earthquake-damaged farms up again? Can Vermilion alone provide us with the weapons needed to help us in our struggle? We come to this city not for itself, but for its port which links us to Fuschia and beyond!"

"Doesn't Cerulean have a port in the north?" Haiiro nervously asked.

"Yeah. It leads to the power plant. But it's so narrow that I'm sure they've already blocked it by now, and even if they haven't it's too inherently insecure to use." One of the local soldiers answered, a Growlithe at his foot, a Shellder on his shoulder; probably a far more powerful weapon than this little gun.

"We come to protect your harbor, so open the gates!" Mizuki yelled, standing atop her Gyarados as the citizens of Vermilion slowly came out to watch.

"I don't have the authority to do that." The guardsman said nervously, clenching his teeth at every word. "Let me get the city council so th..."

"The city council? We don't have the provisions to wait while those idiots debate and our town doesn't have the food!" She yelled, more people now gathering at the gate, either watching with curiosity or with their hands on their pokeballs, prepared to defend their hometown

The crowd parted as a lightning-haired man in his thirties sprinted to the gate, Mizuki dismounting her Gyarados to face him.

"It's nice to see you again, Raizo." She said, her voice dripping with contempt.

"I could say the same of you. Have you come to do to us what you did to Lavender?"

"H-how do you know already what happened in Lavender?!" She asked, her voice livid with surprise, but her contempt unfading.

"Have you forgotten just how close Lavender is to the Power Plant? I have friends, you know – many friends. And they can move when they need to."

"Let's cease all this fighting." One of the townspeople spoke, a slightly creepy-looking man of about twenty-five with a Plusle on one shoulder and a Minun on the other, marked by the medal over his shoulder to belong to the Vermilion City council. "We have a common enemy, you know... if this is a proposition before the council, I'm for it."

"But the enemy of an enemy is not always a friend." Another councilor answered. "The people can see it, can't they? That's why they're here. Are you so naïve as to think that Mizuki sent this army to protect us? She is a conqueror and this proposal is nothing more than a slimy trick!"

At this, many of the Cerulean soldiers and their pokemon turned skeptically towards their leader, Haiiro from behind the hilled redoubt among them: just what had happened in Lavender? Was all this talk of foreign armies nothing more than an excuse for her to play Nobunaga on the free people of Kanto? Could Mizuki really be trusted?

"When called to suppress the protests, to fire on friends and countrymen who had taken up arms instead of choosing between starvation and endless labor, the soldiers turned around and fired on their officers and bourgeois masters." Another councilor said, and things were looking grim indeed: it appeared that only five councilors had assembled, if there ever were any more, and Raizo was one of them. "A history of the Pokemon Revolution. Again, a fascist conqueror threatens our way of life – I call upon the army of Cerulean to live up to the heroes of our past."

"We've all read A history of the Pokemon Revolution – it's not like we don't get elementary school before going off on our pokemon journeys." Mizuki answered through clenched teeth. "And I'll grant that, even after the decades, there are still those who believe in the spirit of revolution and vigilantly defend it, instead of being content that the exploitation is gone and the state has withered away."

"It withered away until you restored it!" The councilor shouted.

"And look at how well we defended ourselves when it withered away! We didn't get a worldwide revolution, y'know... there's still land beyond that sea. And without a state to stop them, there'll always be some madman who'll seek power by any means, and we can't expect to defeat them with feel-good socialism and voluntary co-operation!"

"On this, I agree." Raizo answered, then shifted to a mocking tone. "There'll always be some villages where history isn't appreciated and the revolutionary spirit is forgotten. But you're right in that a state is needed, if only in times of crisis. So, to ensure we remain free from dictators and state officials don't become our overlords, the state shall be a workers' democracy."

"If your democracy was enough to protect Vermilion, I wouldn't be here. If their soldiers turned their guns on their masters, I'd still be in my gym, training and accepting challengers. But instead you debated while your constituents burned."

"You really believe that, don't you?" Raizo asked.

"They didn't?"

"Leading an army this far on propaganda from refugees with an axe to grind... you really are a foolish girl, Mizuki-chan. I suppose you believed there was an ongoing genocide in Lavender Town as well."

"There... wasn't?"

"There was." A man stated, his black robe floating out behind him as a Duskull floated to the side of his head. "Though I suppose it was more of a Terror. I think you could use better sources, Raizo-san."

"It's true. We did debate." The Vermilion gym leader answered. "We'd had wars before, more recently than most towns, but that didn't mean we had any idea how to oppose an army this large, so we discussed it instead of relying on whoever was strongest. We gave a couple orders to stay out of sight and harass them. My Raichu fought well with agility and substitutes, my Electrode rolled under and blew up a Nidoking. We couldn't fight them in open combat, so we made use of the time to think of a long-term resistance plan – luckily, they left before we could use it."

"The plan has been distributed to all citizens." A young woman cheerfully stated from behind the walls. "And we are prepared to utilize it against any power which seeks to take the independence and freedom of our city!

"Then utilize it." Mizuki said coldly. "These walls won't hold up for long – Gyarados, Hydro Pump!" A powerful burst of water slammed against a point on the city's wall. The barrier was drenched, but held firm.

"Raichu, Thunderbolt!" The orange rodent fired a powerful thunderbolt through the city's gate which engulfed the Gyarados in electricity. The serpent roared in pain as Mizuki returned it to its pokeball.

Eiji glanced at Mizuki, then at Raizo, wondering how to act. As the soldiers hesitated, a few joined with her in the attack against the power of the Vermilion townspeople. On one side was the army he had sworn to serve, the army with the power to avenge his hometown; the only ones in Kanto with the power to fight back. Its leader was Mizuki, a respectable gym leader and a strong woman, the person who had built this force.

On the other was Raizo, his childhood role model, the man he had wished to be strong enough to study under...the greatest Electrode trainer in the world, coming out to lead his city as Mizuki had led hers, trying nobly to preserve freedom for his people no matter who opposed him.

"Let's cut down on the bloodshed, shall we? I'll fight for Vermilion, you pick your champion."

"You have a type advantage against all our strong trainers and your army is vastly outnumbered."

Raizo sighed as he looked out upon the Army of Cerulean, most of them now charging the city walls with determination and power, while others bombarded the city with Voltorb bombs and even the occasional Charizard flamethrower, only to be shot down by thunderbolt after thunderbolt. The sound of gunfire served as a backdrop to the constant screaming of pokemon names and attacks, but the poorly trained artillery had barely made a dent in the fighting: the trainers charging madly with swords seemed to be doing slightly more damage.

It was a diverse army; most of the pokemon were locals, sure, but Cerulean was rich in biodiversity. Psyduck, Goldeen, Horsea, and Krabby from the gym's legendary aquarium or the surrounding waters, a few water types from places afar as befit a city with Cerulean's reputation, a few Golbat, Parasect, and Machoke from inside Cerulean Cave, supported by heaps of Caterpie, Oddish, Bellsprout, Venonat, Pidgey, Rattata, Mankey, and other small pokemon from the grasses around the town – to say nothing of the ghosts and Cubone from Lavender or the Zubat, Clefairy, and Geodude from the Moon villages. Between them, their evolutions, and the various oddball pokemon individual trainers had picked up in their travels, there had to be at least 150 species represented in their force.

As Raizo sized them up further, his fears began to diminish. It wasn't a particularly organized force; the Rapidash cavalry formed a distinct regiment, the Pidgey and Spearow lines of flyers were bombarding the city in formation (and getting zapped from the skies in formation, as well: their own Fearow force would win air supremacy soon enough) and there was probably a column of water-types which knew Hydro Pump dug in somewhere on a nearby hill, but the rest were just a confusing mass of grass, bugs, and rodents mixed in with the occasional fighter who packed a serious punch.

Nonetheless, this wouldn't be easy. The walls wouldn't hold long. His forces were outnumbered by about five to one for the time being, although this was getting better by the moment: trainers were coming from all over the city, sending out swarms of Pikachu and Tentacool. But if anything, the Vermilion Militia was even less organized than his opponent's, and although there was a general type advantage it only went so far.

Though come to think of it.. he pondered, Bellsprout whipping Tentacool at the gates as the hordes of pokemon clashed, teeth, fangs, and other appendages outstretched, mouths wide open and spraying elements, battle lines forming as water rained on the forces from the hill outside the city, Mizuki has never been the type to check for traps.

"Diglett, dig!" He yelled, and the engineer corps of the Vermilion Army popped out of the ground, surrounding the bulk of the Cerulean army with a ring of small,brown heads. The ground shifted below the force, then began to collapse as the grass-types took to their vines and the bugs their string shots to maintain their footing, as the Pidgeot, Pidgeotto, Pidgey, Zubat, and Golbat took to the air, flying furiously at the gates, but their flight was fast met with another volley of thunder.

"Fall!" Mizuki ordered as a Jolteon strike force pumped the Bellsprout, Oddish, and Weedle full of spiky pin missiles, artillery raining down through the gates to little effect, water soaking the defenders at the walls.. "You're just vulnerable this way!"

"Fill the pit with acid, Tentacool!" Raizo shouted, and the Tentacool left their stations, giving way for Spearow and Mankey, as Electabuzz stood on the walls, shooting lightning from their hands to fry an increasing segment of the enemy Goldeen. (Along with a regrettably high number of the allied ones: the pokemon weren't exactly wearing uniforms.)

"Confusion!" Mizuki yelled as a purple liquid began to fill the pit and the pokemon inside pulled themselves upwards.(those who could, anyway: the Mankey had nothing to climb with, and the one Growlithe and few Rattata's efforts to scamper up the walls failed for lack of footing, and the attempt to climb the vines of their allies did the same owing to their vast weight) and her Starmie obliged, countless headached-Psyduck and exiled Gastly, Haunter and Duskull joining in, along with a few Hypno and Gengar, their eyes and jewels glowing a chilling royal blue in unison.

A series of Abra, Kadabra, Drowzee and Hypno countered this, eyes yellow as the battle seemed to move to a different dimension. Half the pokemon in the battle froze in place, held in blue light as they raised their claws or leaves, barred from bringing them down on their equally frozen opponents, or held helplessly prone while their enemies delivered finishing, fatal blows. Ekans and Tentacool from Vermilion began to fall, but the ghosts were not holding up well in the psionic battle. Most of them slowly faded and drifted back to their pokeballs as a few new ghosts were created from the bodies littering the battleground.

In a small tunnel beneath the city walls, Rattata bit and clawed at each other, the Cerulean ones winning a slight and bloody victory, only to find the tunnel so clogged with their dead kin on the other side that they could not break through.

In the midst of the chaos, Eiji dashed athletically through the commotion, ducked under a swinging Scyther blade, danced to the left of a charging Tauros, then slid under a Raichu's body slam to arrive at the city gate.

Haiiro watched from the hilltop, carefully positioning his gun and firing a bullet which fell a few feet to Raizo's right, the astral battle seeming over with the dearth of psychics and ghosts still on the field. Mizuki didn't seem to have a single one of her pokemon left, the bulk of the Cerulean army was no longer climbing out, but instead making an effort to tunnel away from the fire, grass, and lightning attacks being hurled into the pit by the watchful Vermilion soldiers. His own hill began to shake as he heard the chants of "trio" from below, and the shock combined with the weight of his gun to knock Haiiro from his feet.

"Explosion!" Eiji yelled, and the six minimized Electrode on his belt returned to their normal size, glowed a bright white, and exploded in a great flash, breaching the wall. A horde of Rapidash poured in, setting fires around the town to secure Vermilion from outside aggression. Vermilion's militia fell back, many of them returned to their pokeballs which were soon hurled in the flame-horse's path as the rest of the Cerulean horde charged, sensing victory, the fall of their artillery's hill a necessary sacrifice.

"Leave the city to me and I promise to rebuild the harbor and protect the people of Vermilion." Mizuki calmly stated as a ship approached the ruined docks.

"Save your negotiations for after the battle." Raizo answered, his right cheek scarred by an Ivysaur's razor leaf, but even as he spoke the battle was dying down, each side watching nervously as a boat sailed towards the harbor: was their ultimate enemy, the unseen scourge of Kanto, now back for round two? Had Mizuki just weakened them this whole time? The Cerulean army pondered these questions as they watched the ship search for somewhere to dock.

Finding only a ruined harbor, the staircase was lowered instead, and fifty Ursaring with riders decked out in Johto armor jumped into the water, then swam up to the beaches and rushed onto the land. A squad of nearby Machoke rushed to counter them, only to be called off by a motion from Raizo's hand as the Ursaring and their riders charged the army of Cerulean.

The Rapidash charged back, their riders raising their lances to meet the Johto katanas as they ran, while the horse pokemon spat vortexes of flames. The Ursaring rushed through the flames, then slashed at the Rapidash's legs as riders jousted, the matches decided more often by the security of their mount than the weapons of their trainers.

"Bear cavalry..." Mizuki noted, gulping in fear as the soldiers began thrusting and slashing at each other's mounts. Many fighters took advantage of these opening to strike the opposing riders, a couple of Rapidash fell, a few Cerulean soldiers cursed as their lances got lost in thick, brown Ursaring fur, and several trainers on both sides were knocked from their mounts and trampled to their deaths.

Clinging to the Rapidash's fiery mane, his hand burning up, one soldier thrust his lance into his Ursaring foe's eye, and the bear reared up in pain, tossing its rider to the ground, and slew his foe with an enraged hammer arm.

"It's useless! Fall back and regroup!" Mizuki ordered, and the Rapidash retreated as a few Machamp stood defiantly against the Ursaring charge. Near the docks, a truck suddenly shook, but it was merely a distraction; old tales about Mew emerging to protect the village in a time of crisis were nothing more than myths. The people of Vermilion watched, thinking their salvation was charging into the valley of death – death by getting the crap beat out of them by Machop, Machoke, and Machamp.

A few Electabuzz leaped out at the Machamp from behind, trying to grapple the fighting pokemon, but were fast assaulted Bellsprout, Oddish, and Meowth tearing into their short, tiger-striped legs. Suddenly, Mizuki lowered the standard of Cerulean and hoisted one similar, but sans badge and waves, a white flag flying gloriously as it guided them to victory.

Victory.

That was what white flags symbolized, right? Haiiro didn't really remember his symbols, but... it had to be victory, right? Given the situation, no other flag-change would be suitable – the Ursaring, Vermilion's last hope, were about to be finished off!

Yet for some reason, everyone else was shaking their heads, sighing or roaring in anger. It couldn't be victory. "Right... when you win, you have the regular flag fly triumphantly, I remember now. But..." the trainer asked himself, still wondering, what else could it be at a time like this?"

The soldier next to him was more in control of his faculties and had started cursing at Mizuki the moment she switched her flag. "Why the fuck are you surrendering? Have you forgotten all the people we lost?!" He yelled, but his voice was drowned in the mass of protest, and the gym leader ignored it all;

The Ursaring halted, allowing their riders to dismount and stood up on their short, stout hind legs, the yellow rings on their chest which so strongly showed their difference from normal grizzlies now plain in view as Raizo made his response.

"It seems you have learned your lesson, so I will allow your army safe passage to Cerulean. The real enemy is still out there, and Vermilion needs all the help it can get – we all do."

Mizuki shook her head as she held back her tears. "No. Your city's defenses were badly damaged in this useless battle for which I take complete responsibility. I cannot raise the dead, and my medics are too busy healing our own, but our forces can at least do this for you."

"We didn't fall for that ruse last time, and we won't fall for it now! Trying to have you let us in for our own safety...how du--" A councilor began to yell, but Raizo raised his hand and he quickly fell silent, and Haiiro was left to watch and help, carrying Scyther-cut bricks to rebuild the wall that Eiji had given his life to destroy.