N battle part 2, aka Marshal's showdown against him. Pretty long drabble this time.

Drabble 10: Yearning

Throh grabbed the monstrous black beast by the jaws. He was strong enough to keep them open and away for a moment before they closed on him. Zekrom spat the unconscious Pokemon at Marshal's feet, who quickly recalled his friend to its Pokeball.

Marshal grunted in frustration. "You might beat me. I can't deny that, but what's all this gonna solve in the end? You'll destroy thousands of friendships, like the one you have with Big Black there."

"I do not own Zekrom," the green haired youth replied, in a holier-than-thou tone that gave Marshal a yearning to break his face. "He fights because we share a cause, to end this violence and slavery."

"Well look at Mr. Hippy McHyprocite," Marshal replied, masking his rage, but not the shaking his arms and legs. "You don't think my Pokemon and I share a cause, that we don't care about each other, that they're with me because I own them? Look at yourself, you slime haired brat! You're battling with a Pokemon just like me. How are you different from anyone else?"

"Ah, but as you said before, I'm going to win. I will win, because my ideals are stronger. They are right. That is what Zekrom represents. I said the same to your literature-loving friend a few minutes ago."

Shauntal! Marshal thought. "What did you do to her? I swear to Arceus, if you hurt her, I'll-"

"Defeated, only," Green-Head cut in. "I am no brute who uses violence on his own kind, as I can tell you are from your attire."

That was the straw that broke the Camerupt's back.

Marshal shook his head, chuckling. "Boy, you picked the wrong fight today." He threw his last ball and out came a brown, musclebound creature with a large red nose and two huge cement columns in his massive three-fingered hands. "Conkeldurr, Hammer Arm!"

"Dur!" The heavy-handed Pokemon roared as it dropped its right column, raised a gigantic fist and slammed it into the ground, ripping through the mats and crushing the concrete underneath. A great crater spread from the impact point, sending cracks skittering to all corners of the arena. A cloud of chalky dust enveloped Marshal's side. Zekrom cried out as rocks flew up and bounced off his body, inflicting minor damage. The green-haired boy made nervous sounds as he was rocked by the quake. He soon recovered.

"Fusion Bolt," shouted the boy, his voice cracking with the high pitch of adolescence.

Zekrom's body sparked. Tiny blue bolts zipped around him faster and faster until he was surrounded by a ball of azure lightning. The huge dragon charged, clearing the dust cloud and ramming it's head into the much smaller opponent. Conkeldurr flew backward and blasted into the far wall, fainting without so much as a sound. N had won the battle.

As the final attack ended, something slammed into him from behind, knocking him to the mats. He felt quick, practiced legs locking around his midsection and steely hands grip his chin and the back of his head.

"Sorry, kid," Marshal said, no more humor in his voice. "But I can't let you tear apart all those partners out there, and put my Shauntal's life in danger with all this destruction." This was merciless, Marshal knew, but his priorities had never been clearer. All the bonds between Pokemon and humans in the world, all the people and Pokemon this crazy kid might hurt, was hurting to get what he wanted, were worth more than his one, confused, corrupted life. "You did beat me. Congrats, but my ideals are stronger. I am more powerful than you." He began twisting the boy's head to the left using the leverage he had on both sides of it. He remembered years ago when his master had taught him this technique, but told him never to use it, unless life was at stake. He wasn't sure if this counted or not.

Marshal prepared for the final jerk that would snap the boy's neck, but then felt his arms and legs peeled away from the boy by some invisible force. He growled and fought it with all his might, but soon the green-haired lad was free and Zekrom's Psychic attack tossed him across the stadium, into the concrete wall. He cried out as he felt his skull crack and slid to the floor.

His eyes were growing dark as he saw Conkeldurr, slumped over next to him. I shouldn't have sacrificed you for my cheap shot. He thought. But it was the only way... The only way I could keep us together. Maybe that kid is right.

"Our ideals are stronger," N said, as his voice and the world grew more darker and more distant. "We are more powerful than you."

And the strongest one is always right...

IIIIII

So what do you think of Marshal's decision during this battle? Understandable? Overkill? Let us know what you think.