This is it. After nearly two weeks of battling here I stand in the center ring—in the finals.
I've been able to adapt the moves I learned as a Pokemon to use them as a human and then some. That's what's really gotten me this far, the power I've gained and techniques I've learned unlike anything the rest of my kind can truly understand. That and an insane amount of luck.
As I stand in one corner of the ring, a strange mix of both exhilaration and panic overwhelms me. Masa is going to be hard to beat—I knew that I minute I saw him. He can judge a person's strengths and weaknesses just as good as any well-trained Fighting-type. I don't think I'd be surprised if I learned he was actually one himself, just trapped in a human form as I had been trapped as a Riolu.
All the same, with the spirit of a Fighting-type, an overwhelming drive for combat courses through my veins, no matter what the outcome. I feel like I could face whatever the world throws at me right now. And I'm too close to fail.
What surprises me most though is that Masa hasn't entered the ring, and the stands are filling up fast. Though if he fails to show I'd be dubbed the victor by forfeit, it doesn't fell right if I can't win fairly. Where could he be? He was fine the last time I saw him and this is the only match either of us had in our division, so he couldn't have gotten hurt in another fight since then. I hope he's not sick.
The referees are talking among themselves and I clench my fists nervously. Masa wouldn't back out—he doesn't strike me as the type to abandon a fight. What if they did decide that he was taking too long?
A swam of relief washes over me as the crowd begins to cheer behind me, chanting Masa's name. He's made it! Smiling, I look back to greet him, but the words die on my lips before I can make them.
Something isn't right.
It's more than the scowl. It's more than the way he stomps into the ring like a Golurk ready to cast its enemies out of its domain. It's his aura; it surrounds him like a wave of fire. And his eyes—once bearing so much laughter and life—have now turned as hard and as cold as stone. What's gotten into him?
"Ladies and gentlemen!" screams the announcer. All discussion in the stands stops and a loud roar sounds around us from all sides. "Welcome to the final stage of the Fighting-type Battle Royale! Before we begin, as a reminder to all of our guests, concessions and souvenir stands will be open until 7:00 tonight, and all competitors must be checked out of the hotel by 10:30 tomorrow morning.
"In this corner," he gestures over to me, "is the rookie you've all been whispering about, who's climbed to success with little effort and left a trail of broken bones—as well as hearts—behind her. Everyone, let me hear you scream for the blue-haired, butt-kicking beauty… Lira the Riolu!"
Well, that was well practiced, I think. That line from the announcer seems oiled, but natural, and it's definitely getting the crowd riled up—as if they needed it anyway. Still, I can't help but want to shy away from the attention, but I hold my ground and even wave at some of the people.
"And in this corner," he motions to Masa, "is an old favorite I know all of you love! He's participated in every Battle Royale since he was a boy, he won in his division of the Battle Royale three years back, and he is back today to reclaim his title as champion! Everyone, put your hands together for the one and only Masa the Machoke!"
The crowd absolutely erupts with excitement at the mention of his name, but Masa only responds to the cheers with such silence they might as well not have existed. Where is the Masa I met yesterday, or was he only being friendly to lower my guard?
As the announcer continues to speak, I wish him luck from my corner of the ring. However, he only grunts at me as if my voice infuriates him and shoots me such a look of ire that I nearly stumble back from the force behind it, as if it dealt a physical blow. The only times I've ever seen someone so enraged were when Ri and I fought Primal Dialga in Temporal Tower.
And then he just snaps! The referees haven't even called for the match to begin and I don't have time to react as he comes barreling toward me with an inhumane cry of rage. I'm knocked to the ground instantly by the assault as the crowd gasps with shock around me.
Technically, he broke one of the few rules of the Battle Royale by attacking early, but it's too little too late for anyone to do anything now. Masa dives for me again. I yelp in surprise and flip back in time to dodge to attack and land on my own feet in a crouch as he hits to ground hard.
As I stand and make some room between us, a sharp pain courses through my abdomen. I wrap a hand around my stomach with a moan through clenched teeth. Something's probably bruised if not broken. This isn't good: I've never been hurt this badly in the beginning of a fight before.
He pops back up and swings his leg level with my gut. He's fast, but I'm faster, and have enough time to brave myself for the blow. If I do this right I can catch it, then—
It doesn't matter. I do catch it, but the strength behind the kick overpowers me. I flung backwards and feel the sting of one of the ropes dig into my skin as I collide with it. What is with me today?! Why am I so off? Masa's a lot stronger than I anticipated, and a lot crueler in his technique. He acts more like the criminals I faced as an explorer rather than a competitor—like he's out to kill.
Maybe he is, for just as the thought comes to mind, I'm down on the ground again with my vision blurry and my head pounding. Once I get my sight back, the next thing I see is him towering over me with a fist drawn above my face—No, not the face, but the neck. He punches hard and quick, and I only miss the blow by a few centimeters.
That attack would've been the end of me. The referees see this and while one blows his whistle another swiftly hefts himself into the ring to try to get Masa off of me. I try to shout a warning, but I'm too late: A hand closes around my throat about the same time one snaps around the referee's. I can't breathe! Masa doesn't spare the referee so much as a glance, but glares hatefully into my own eyes as he slowly strangles me. Little black dots dance around my vision and I fight to keep conscious.
I've wanted to avoid using the power of aura because it feels like cheating, but I don't have a choice. I let it flow through me and give me strength, and with a powerful kick I manage to get Masa away from me, forcing him to let go of the referee in the process as he tries to keep his balance.
"Get out of here!" I gasp painfully, wildly waving for the referee to leave and massaging my throat with my other hand. Maybe it's the danger of the situation or the seriousness in my stare, but he nods and scrambles back behind the safety of the ropes as his companions check him over to see how bad his injury is.
Masa's not even paying attention to them, but screams ferociously at me: He's only after me. As long as nobody gets in his way, they should be fine.
I feel familiar instincts begin to kick in. I feel myself lift to the balls of my feet and a canine-like growl resounds from my throat. This is nothing I haven't faced before, but no more Miss Nice Guy. "Masa!" I bark, "I don't know what's gotten into you, but calm down before I have to beat you down!"
It's no more than what I expected really. He only answers with an animalistic cry and dives for me. I thrust myself into the air, replicating a High Jump Kick. I spin as I descend, and allow the aura to guide me. There's no way he can dodge and the mark hits true. But as I bound back into a fighting stance, I see that even that powerful attack won't bring him down so easily. In fact, he rears up as if the strike barely did a thing.
It's beyond human, but that's fine. After all, I'm not quite human either.
He charges at me with such barbarity I can only compare it to him using Revenge. Let the hothead get as mad as he wants: It worked so well for me during my time as a Pokemon. I wait until the last possible moment and then drop to my back. His shadow casts over me and I kick out to tumble him over—Circle Throw.
I roll over, but remain in a crouch. So when he charges at me again, I dive under his legs and swing one of mine back around. However, he blocks the strike easily by spinning on one heel to face me and lifting his arm to defend himself.
He pulls back as if to punch me again, but it's just a diversion. As I prepare to blow the hit, he instead switches over to a side kick. And then something strange happens: His leg begins to glow with a dark mist of hidden power. It's so faint, you'd have to be close to see it, but when I do my heart nearly stops.
I'm so shocked by this occurrence that I don't act fast enough and am knocked right out of the ring and smash spine first into a table on the other side. The volunteers around it scream and run out of the way as I plummet toward them.
The match was over a long time ago—when Masa all but threw the match by attacking early and then when he tried to strangle me, which would've ended in disqualification. But the real fight has only just begun. Masa throws himself over the ropes and lands on his feet with a loud thud. It hurts too much to move, and so I'm defenseless when he picks me up by my ankle and tosses me toward a wall. I cry out in agony as my side bashes against it and I flop to the floor in a heap.
Some people scream. A few run out of room, as if Masa was after any of them instead. But most stay silent and paralyzed in their seats.
You will pay… I hear a voice whisper in my ear. My eyes flutter open tiredly as I hear it, only to see Masa approaching me with his fists clenched. My muscles tense up in expectation.
Make her suffer… Make her beg! The harsh voice continues. As if on cue, Masa lifts me up by the scruff of my neck, pushes me back into the wall as my feet dangle limply above the floor, and lifts his hand to punch me again. I try to struggle out of his grip, but it's futile, and a small part of me seems resigned to this fate. I failed. I couldn't reach Ri or Grovyle. But at least my nightmares will end.
I glare up into the eyes of my opponent defiantly—not at Masa, but at the voice that's continued to haunt me. There's no way to reach through to him and I don't try, but somehow that same voice that tormented Dialga has now has possessed the compassionate, haughty man I met yesterday. Those eyes no longer belong to Masa, but to a monster that's using his mind for a sick game. And if I die, I won't give its master the joy of my pain.
But I do scream when I see Roger and Flora racing up from behind Masa, along with Turtwig and Jolteon. The two Pokemon each go for Masa's legs and bite him at the ankles as Roger and Flora jump up to tug his arm back before he can hit me. What are they doing?! Those idiots are going to get themselves killed!
"Back off!" I choke out. "It's my fight: Don't get involved!" In truth, it's so much more and far worse.
Before they can retort, they're thrust back while Jolteon and Turtwig are knocked away as if they weighed nothing. Masa turns on them with fury and Flora screams in fright as he stomps toward them. As the fingers around my neck slip away and I slide to the floor, I reach into the reserves of my strength and fling myself upon Masa's back, latching my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.
"Run!" I yell as Masa is thrown off balance but my added mass, and this time they comply. I dig my nails into his face and he shrieks, reaching up to tear my hands away. I hang on, but he rams his back up against the wall and me with it. As my skull bashes once more against the surface, a yelp escapes my lips. My head is swimming now, but I can't afford to lose concentration.
This time, he reaches back to grab me from under my arms and swing me over him. I don't fight it, but instead help throw myself over so I can stand on my own two feet again. Once my feet hit the ground, I spin to block the next attack—another punch—by raising both of my arms to meet the strike. As his fist glows with that familiar dark hue, my forearms radiate with the light blue gleam of my aura. My feet skid some ways across the floor, but I manage to block the attack. And absorbing the blow gives me just enough time to strike. Once more, I use my aura and swing my foot in an upward arc. Let's see how much he likes having his brains rattled!
Bam! His chin snaps up as the mark hits true and he stumbles back. He's still not down but it's a start anyway. I don't relent—continuing my onslaught of kicks and punches. I know Masa—the real Masa—is in there somewhere, but I if I don't fight back with just as much vengeance, I'll never wake up to see the rising of the sun again.
Somehow in the midst of the string of attacks, he finds an opening and pounds me once in the chest with the brunt of his palm. I fly backward and curl myself around my abdomen when I get back up. My breathing is quick and labored, it's getting hard to see straight again, and everything hurts. I need to end this now before I black out, but Masa seems like he's still got plenty of energy to spare.
I'm struck down again. I can't get back up. Masa cracks his knuckles, giving evilly at my limp form. I try to summon up another attack with my aura, but I don't think I can use any more of it. I'm too exhausted and have spent a lot already to combat his other attacks. Using anymore could kill me before Masa could have the chance too.
I remember the time during our fight with Dusknoir and the Sableye when Ri healed me by using aura. I wish he was here now to help me through this. Grovyle was right: Together, we couldn't be stopped. But alone, against these nightmares…
Wait a minute! Ri used aura to heal me, and if aura can be spent and given… is there a chance it could also be taken? I hate myself for even considering it, but it might be my only was out of this—even if I don't entirely know how it works.
Only one way to find out… As Masa drags me up by my throat for a third time, I wrap my hands around his wrists. He laughs at first—not his own laugh full of life: the laugh of that taunting voice—but is abruptly caught off when I begin to reach in to his own stores of aura and pull it away into me. I need to be careful: I don't want to kill him, just knock him out.
He tries to fight it, but as his strength depletes, mine slowly begins to return. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear a ghostly hiss of anger.
That's enough! His grip falters and I find I a stand again, albeit shakily. My hands glow with a shimmering blue and my eyes are probably doing the same. Meanwhile, Masa's eyes flutter shut and with a soft exhale he collapses to the floor. Good: He's still breathing.
"It's over…" I whisper hoarsely, my arms hanging limply at my sides. Maybe now—after being beaten twice—that voice will finally go away and chew on someone else's ear for a while.
Someone clasps a hand on my shoulder to steady me. I look up at them, but their face is blurry and undistinguishable.
It hurts. Everything hurts…
I find myself slipping to the ground and into darkness.