Piplup

The sound of the chaos outside could still be heard through the walls of the transport vehicle. Piplup grimaced as he heard someone get pushed into the vehicle. It rocked a bit to the side as someone else pinned whoever it was to the vehicle. "No, please!" an unfamiliar voice begged. Whoever had them captive said nothing. There was a slicing sound, then a quiet gurgling. Piplup could imagine the figure, perhaps an Infernape, perhaps a Swampert, crumpling to the ground as the last of its life bled from its neck.

Froakie was sitting on the bench across from Piplup, staring at the drivers and passenger's seats at the front of the vehicle. Piplup looked up as well. Outside, the world was slowly getting darker. Sandstorm Piplup thought as he looked back down at his feet. Everything had blown up in their faces. The plan to kill Garchomp was still nothing more than that. He doubted anyone would be able to do it, not after this. And certainly not with a sandstorm now pushing in to blind every fighter on the field.

Piplup sighed and sat back, his mind going back to his father. They'd both been surrounded, but who would the Fire Nation kill? Probably both of them, or at least try to. Piplup doubted that today would be the day Garchomp fell. He'd already taken out more Fire Nation soldiers than any other Water or Ground Nation fighter had yet, and he was bound to take down more before he fell. If he fell.

Froakie turned his head towards Piplup, looking concerned. "I'm sorry," he said. "About Empoleon. And about… about saying stuff about… um…" Froakie looked at him, clearly unsure of whether or not to continue.

"It's fine," Piplup said, though even the indirect mention of his brother's demise caused a thorn to prick his heart. His fault, all his fault. It had been scratching at the back of his brain for a while now, but to say it out loud made it a truly awful yet possible possibility. Prinplup. Dead. My fault. Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn't. But he had a feeling that he would continue to blame himself until the day he died.

He looked over at the front window of the vehicle. Sand had covered their entire view of the battlefield, making it seem as though the vehicle had been buried beneath the desert. He couldn't stop thinking about Empoleon. His father was stupid, but he was tough. He would make it out alive from this. I hope, he thought.

Suddenly, there was a loud bump from beneath Froakie and his feet. He snapped up and looked down at the floor below. Froakie had too. There was no sound for a few seconds. Froakie and Piplup looked up at each other. Fraokie's face was fraught with worry, and Piplup knew that his face was as well. Then, there was another sound, this time two bumps in rapid succession. Bumpbump!

Piplup's head snapped back down, and he stared at the floor. He didn't look up from it as bumping sounds continued. Sometimes they would become rapid, and other times they were only single thumps followed by a few seconds of silence, followed by yet another thump. As the sounds continued, he tensed himself. There was one thing his father had taught him that seemed useful for almost any situation. The power that was inside of any Pokémon could be used to generate all sorts of moves. And there was one that his father had tried to teach him and Prinplup a few weeks before Prinplup's death. While Prinplup could never get the hang of it, Piplup had mastered the move with ease.

"Well done!" his father had said, clapping his flippers together and smiling with pride. "Normally, only Empoleon's know how to channel their energy just right so that they can do that. Bravo, son!"

He hoped his father's praise had been truthful. He hoped he had done it correctly. Because now his life and Froakie's life depended on that one single strike.

Piplup felt his flipper harden. Froakie looked up at him, staring wide-eyed. "How did you learn how to do that?" he asked.

"My father," Piplup said. He could feel his flipper tightening, tighter and tighter. But it didn't hurt; it felt more as though it was becoming something outside of himself, nothing more than a weapon he would use to cut down whatever came into the vehicle.

The bumps were getting even more rapid. He could see the metal of the transport vehicle's floor start to bend. A lump was slowly forming as whatever was underneath the vehicle began to break through. Bumpbumpbump, bumpbumpbump, continuing on and on and on until-!

Metal flew just as the Gabite jumped out from the hole in the vehicle. Piplup sliced, his flipper now a silvery-gray. The Gabite was clearly shocked at what had been waiting for him, as his eyes widened just before Piplup sliced open his throat. The Gabite didn't make a sound as it held its throat using its arm. It began to stumble, almost dance around. Piplup didn't know why, but he found it almost amusing, like a puppet on strings. At last, the Gabite fell, hitting his head against the floor. His body continued to leak crimson as it lay there. Piplup turned away from it, not wanting to watch as the rest of his blood leaked out. More would be coming, anyway.

Just as the first one died, two more sprung up out of the hole. Piplup sliced one's throat open, but was unable to do anything to the other one. The other one had cornered Froakie, and was raising his arm to slice him open. Before Piplup could do anything though, Froakie became a blue and white blur. Piplup didn't even see his foot jut out and smack the Gabite in the bottom jaw, but he knew that was what must have happened. The Gabite backed away, making indistinguishable sounds as it moved its jaw around. The pain in its eyes didn't stop Piplup from using his flipper like a sword. He stuck the Gabite in the back of the neck with his now point-ended flipper. He pulled it out, allowing the dying soldier to fall to the ground.

Piplup looked back at the hole. Silence. But he knew that more would be coming out of there soon.

Piplup turned back to Froakie, whose eyes shone with seriousness. But Piplup could tell by the way he was shaking that he had been terrified throughout the entire ordeal. "It could be worse," Piplup said. "We could be out there."

Froakie nodded, looking out at the window. "We're going to need to stay close to those doors," he said, nodding at the doors at the end of the vehicle from whence they came in. "If this vehicle gets overrun, we're going to have to go out there anyway."

"When," Piplup said.

"Huh?"

"When this vehicle gets overrun," Piplup elaborated, nodding towards the hole in the floor. "There's no chance in hell that we're going to be staying in here for the entirety of the battle."

As though his words were the deliverance of an omen, another Gabite rose from the hole. This one did not jump out, but had rather pulled himself through the hole, and seemed to be struggling to do so. Piplup walked over to it, his flipper ready. The Gabtie stared up at him when he approached, then smiled. "You," he said, his voice giving away that he was exhausted from his climb. "You're Empoleon's son."

Piplup said nothing, merely stared at the Gabite with dark eyes.

The Gabite laughed. "He's dead, you know," the Gabite said. "I saw it happen with my own eyes. Garchomp tore that poor bastard apart. When your surviving soldiers come back to take away the bodies, they won't even know it's him!"

Piplup knew that the Gabite was just trying to get a rise out of him, but that still didn't change what he did. With a quick swipe, he let blood flow from the soldier's neck. He didn't look shocked, and seemed to have accepted his fate long before he climbed up the hole. He still tried to uselessly plug his neck. As he fell, a smile was still stretched across his face.

Piplup stared down at the hole for a few seconds more. Froakie came up to his side to join him. "Arceus willing, we're gonna be okay," he said reluctantly.

"Arceus has nothing to do with this," Piplup said. Then, as though hearing someone else talk; "If anything, we're in a world ruled by Darkrai."

Froakie jumped back, staring at Piplup, and shock in his eyes. "How could you say something like that?" he asked.

Piplup shrugged, still staring down at the hole. "After everything I've seen before and everything I've seen today, I don't know how bad things will get tomorrow. But if tomorrow is just as good as today, then either there is no Arceus, or he's one sick son of a bitch."

Before Froakie could respond, there was a low rumbling sound that trumpeted beneath them. Piplup looked down at the hole, trying to see if anyone was about to climb up. No one was. The transport vehicle began to shake. Then, he could feel it; something was trying to pull the tank underground. And it was succeeding.

"Quick!" Piplup shouted. He flung open the doors of the transport vehicle just a millisecond before those too began to sink into the ground. He jumped out, rolling on the ground as it did so. He looked back at the tank, watching as Froakie leapt out and landed next to him gracefully.

"Hippowdon," was all Froakie said as the two of them watched the transport vehicle slowly sink into the ground. Piplup quickly got up, planning to run away from where they were, to get away from the Hippowdon that seemed to be pulling their vehicle under. But when he turned, sand struck him in the eyes. He grimaced and rubbed them. He put a flipper up above his eyes, trying to see if there was anyone near them

He could see shadows in the distance, and could hear the sounds of battle on the wind. But the sounds were faint, and the wind was buffeting. He turned towards Froakie, who had walked only ten feet away from him. Even when he was so close he still looked like nothing but an outline in the sand. "Froakie!" he shouted.

Froakie didn't seem to hear. Piplup began to walk towards him, struggling minutely against the wind. At last, he caught up to him, and touched him on the arm. Froakie gasped, pulling away. Then he calmed. "Oh," he shouted. His voice sounded far away. "It's you! I was looking for you!"

"I was right behind you!" Piplup shouted.

"What?" Froakie asked.

Piplup raised his flipper, a symbol of silence. Froakie obeyed. The two of them stared out in to the battlefield. Or at least, tried to stare. The only thing Piplup could think was; where do we go now?

They decided to just walk straight.