Disclaimer: Do I really need a disclaimer? I mean, seriously, if you don't know that Nintendo owns Pokémon, then why are you reading this?

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Grasping the Moon

Chapter 21 – Ideology

Part 3

Sabrina prided herself on her mental discipline, and was known for her particular talent for tolerating frustration, but the situation was beginning to get to her. In the arenas of psychic talent, she had always been in a league of her own – even her immediate family, the next in order of ability, were far behind her. But Will, this Argonaut, he outstripped all others – he was even superior to Sabrina in some ways.

He was a true master of teleportation. Every flickering exchange left Sabrina the worse off. It was truly irritating to meet someone who was legitimately better.

Taking quick stock of the situation, Sabrina saw the wall of Unown continuing to orbit and take pot shots at her, and her Alakazam continuing to intercept with his psychic field. At least she could focus solely on the League psychic.

He may be a better teleporter, She told herself, jumping into the air. As she flew, the bespectacled geek appeared over head, his sword already swinging. But I exceed him in brute psychic strength!

Clapping her hands together, Sabrina exploded a pulsing psywave. Will went white mid-swing, vanishing. Beams and attacks that hit a single point were two easy for 'Everywhere-Step' to dodge, but attacks the swept out over an area would force him to retreat. It was a good counter.

"Hyah!"

Sabrina fell back wide-eyed as her opponent appeared behind the ripple of the psywave, directly in her face. He had his hands spread around his glasses.

"Hypnosis!" He cried, the sound echoing through the air as his eyes went straight white. Caught flat-footed, the mind-numbing energies gleaming from Will's eyes tried to trick Scrambler into sleep. He almost mastered her, but Sabrina was better than that, summoning blue energies from deep within and letting them explode from her body. It was an unrefined, partially desperate defence, but it was enough to drive Will back and relieve her of the assault on her consciousness.

The nerd flashed back into the physical world several metres in front of her. Sabrina shook her head to sweep away the last of the weariness. Caution was required; Will was intelligent, he would be changing his strategy as well. She wasn't used to this sort of fight - no one had ever survived against her long enough to have the opportunity.

"Wow." Thought-Poet said, loosening the scarf around his neck. "You really are good – I thought for sure that would work."

Fair-Tongue was probably trying to lower her defences with conversation, so Sabrina retaliated by attacking his brain directly. She thrust in a mental spike, but he psychically palmed off the assault.

"I have a question." He asked, placing one hand in his pocket. Alakazam took a quick break from keeping the Unown at bay to fire a psybeam into Will's unprotected side, but the canny psychic raised a lazy reflect barrier and warded off the blast. "You're psychic, you know who my boss is. Who he really is, I mean. Why are you fighting him?"

As Will put forward his query, he gently loosened the constant mental pressure he was putting on Sabrina. She mentally unbalanced and stumbled forward in real life, but he didn't take advantage. Narrowing her eyes, it occurred to Scrambler that he was honestly curious.

I suppose one of us will end up dead anyway... she figured, watching Will wait for the response. And he was respectful enough not to try and rip the answer from my mind...

Resetting her feet, Sabrina straightened and looking into Will's glasses flatly, her creepy stare washing over the inscrutable glare of his lenses.

"Why do I care if Destiny has adopted Ketchum as her very own?" She asked. "I was too."

Listening carefully, Will cocked his head and shifted his glasses. "Because you were born with such prodigious psychic ability." He surmised.

Sabrina's brow folded lightly, the greatest display of emotion she had given in a long time. "I was the Forbidden Child. People feared me. And even now, I have no true friend – I am used for my strength. I am never valued as being me." The Seer of the Muttering Hall's hand clenched involuntarily, catching Will's attention. "Fate and its gifts are a curse."

Pity wanted to soak into his face, but Will hardened it. He wondered if the woman across the ring to him had ever tried opening up to others, or had merely hid behind the facades and strengths she was accustomed to. In the end, he didn't have the right to say, not truly knowing her himself. At any rate, it was her title that was of interest to him, not her childishness.

Removing his glasses in what he hoped seemed like honesty, he eased his tone. "If you beat me now, you still have to fight the two out there, and there's no way you'll beat them." He advised, the hairs on the back of his neck detecting the dark fiends laughing from the sidelines. "What is the point of this?"

Sabrina looked like she wasn't sure herself, but she quickly covered it up with determination. Igniting the psyche-blades around her hands, she charged forward in a fireball of burning energy, so fast that Will almost didn't get his ward up.

"To strike at fate!" She yelled, stabbing with her weapons.

-- --

Lance stabbed with his halberd, pushing his son back down the hall with an advancing weave of long-range jabs. Ash dodged easily, slipping naturally over rubble as he gave ground, casually deflecting the pole arm whenever the dragonhead slipped too close. Observing that he could not counter with his father so effectively using the longer reach of his weapon, the Champion couldn't help but sneer.

"You always kept me at a distance, didn't you Dad?"

The Dragon Master bared his teeth and coiled around, slashing at the head with his weapon. Ash easily ducked under, and Lance's pride couldn't take the fact that his son wasn't really trying. Crest-Holder did not accept second place to anyone – and to be exceeded by his own offspring!

"No one remembers if a great man loved his family!" He spat back, his eyes wide with anger. He thrust out with his Steyr AUG to fire point blank, but Ash deftly mirrored the action with his M-16, diverting the barrel of Lance's gun with the point of his own. As Lance's bullets chiselled the walls, The Ex-Champion couldn't help but be impressed with Ash's effortless precision, and immediately hated himself for it.

Bringing down his halberd, Lance found his attack blocked by Ash's rifle. Drawing his own firearm back into the fight, Lance found this too caught, parried by the Chosen One's sword. Ash took the moment to slam a foot into his father's stomach, sending the older man collapsing to the ground.

"What's so great about a man who doesn't love his family?" Ash asked, hovering over the Legend-Stalker, deciding not to follow up on the opportunity to remove his head. Gagging for breath, Lance glared up.

"'What's so great'?" He rumbled, grinding his teeth. "Do you have any idea what this nation was like before I became Champion? What the League was like? It was gladiatorial combat!" Pushing down on the ground and upright, Lance met his son's eyes. "The League was organised blood sport."

Ash sniffed. "I've heard all about it."

"I changed it!" Lance went on, ducking down to grab his dropped pole arm. "People were dying in the streets, but I cleaned the place up. I even made the League a sport, an outlet for everyone's violent emotions." Lance glared into Ash's stone-face boldly. "There was peace, people were happy. How am I not great?"

At this Ash snorted in disgusted humour. "Were they now?"

Growling, Lance struck out again with his halberd. The Great Kanto Trainer jumped back easily. "I was the one to make the sacrifice." He shouted, attacking again, but this time Ash didn't give ground, blocking and spinning in a counter, kicking up at his father's face. Lance jerked out of the way. "I was the one killing in the shadows." The Resistance Leader tried again with his rifle, but Ash twirled his own around his hand and batted the gun out of the way with the rifle's butt. The younger man followed up with an elbow to Lance's collarbone.

As the would-be assassin fell back a step, he shook off the pain and attacked again. "I alone can shoulder the protection of the League!" He screamed, leaping at his son, weapons akimbo. "I alone can hurt!"

-- --

The little yellow rat had disappeared again. Looking up from behind the pillar Pikachu had ducked behind, Dragonite informed his partner with his eyes. Lance's other Dragonite grit his teeth and looked left and right, seeking their target.

"Pika?" The rat suddenly asked mockingly. The Dragonites turned a glared at Pikachu sitting lazily down the other end of the hall. Frustration was building - the electric pokemon had to be able to teleport or something – there was no way something could move faster than sight without disturbing the air.

The nearest Dragonite drew back and summoned a hyper beam. The wave of white destructive energy tore marble tiles from the walls. His partner waited to watch the rat dodge and catch him with a follow-up beam.

Matters went awry when, rather than slipping to the side, Pikachu disappeared altogether, appearing only as he drove his tiny rear paws into the first Dragonite's snout. Pikachu struck with such force that the larger pokemon, easily thirty times his weight, stumbled backward in pain. Reacting quickly if without thinking, the second, waiting Dragonite lashing out with his claws, only to find Pikachu gone and his blow landing on his comrade's face.

"Haaaaaooooo!" The injured Dragonite howled.

Dragonite number two raised his claws defensively. "Hooooo!"

"Chu." Pikachu comment, shaking his head at their poor teamwork. He was standing in the hole that Lance had ordered blown into the wall when he first confronted Ash. Both Dragonites, infighting and pain forgotten, twisted to take a firm stance. They had been well-trained not to underestimate based on appearances, but it was still strange to believe that this first-stage evolution could so easily toy with the pair of them. A tiny rodent, barely bigger than their fists – how could he be so strong?

Watching Pikachu cutely bob a long ear made the absurdity of the situation even more powerful. Neither of them were weaklings – they were to regular Dragonites what an abyss was to a pothole, yet this house pet was giving them the run-around. Now he was just standing there looking condescending, cocky to the extreme.

As one, the two Dragonites narrowed their eyes. Perhaps that over-confidence was a weakness. They might be able to turn this...

That second, the second Dragonite, the one who struck his partner, felt a sudden warmth beneath his feet, as though the marble was on fire from under. Sudden revelation hit him, and the towering yellow dragon jumped back just in time for the floor to explode in a tower of fire.

"GRRRAAAAAR!" Charizard roared as he spouted from the flames, fire rolling from his tongue. The Dragonite who had just narrowly escaped ambush responded in kind, spewing black dragon-flames over his red enemy. The two dragons grappled violently, rolling through the walls like they were cardboard, painting each other with fire.

Pikachu sighed as he watched his old friend disappear down Indigo Palace's labyrinthine halls. This was just like the red dragon – Pikachu was polite enough to wait for him to arrive so that they could split the action, and Charizard simply dives right in without saying thanks. Shaking his small head again, could only reflect on how typical it was.

Swivelling his eyes to the remaining Dragonite, Pikachu could see that the great lizard hadn't moved, even when his friend had been attacked. The dragon was focussed, but that wouldn't be enough for a challenge. Maybe Pikachu should have gone ahead and fought both, if just to stretch his legs a bit.

For his part, Dragonite was growing angered at the way Pikachu was examining him, as though he was only assessed as a minor threat. He was one of Lance's prized dragons! Selected from legions of the most rare, powerful pokémon category! He would not be looked down upon.

Tensing up all his muscles, the yellow giant summoned up the power running through his body. He would overwhelm the little rat with as much force as he could possible gather, jamming all the physical energy he could into a single hyper beam. He had long been taught that packing even a third of his total strength into one attack could irrevocably decimate local infrastructure, but he reasoned that here, deep within enemy territory, any damage was good damage.

But reason didn't really factor in too highly – this was about pride. He was not going to be beaten by a tiny little forest-dwelling weak pokémon like a Pikachu. He was the Dragon Master's own! He was elite, and he was going to prove it by slaughtering this false League's very own mascot!

The walls began to quiver as Dragonite's eyes grew blind with white energy. Everything wooden within ten feet suddenly exploded into flames. Pieces of rubble suddenly hovered from the ground, buoyed by the compacted energy emitted from the dragon's inner being. Heavy slabs of dislodged stone were dragged across the ground towards him, caught by his own sudden gravity of power.

Pikachu regarded this with mild surprise, one brow drifting heavenward. He hadn't quite expected this opponent to be able to conjure up this amount of energy. The small rat was becoming a little curious to see what he would do with it.

Grinning across his short snout, Dragonite curved his back in the ecstasy of power. He had forgotten how good it felt to bring the full compliment of his powers to bear - the last time he had employed this much strength he had been helping build a railroad, puncturing a tunnel straight through a mountain in one blow.

Mastering his own strength and joy, Dragonite bent forward, condensing the furious power into a ball – yet even squeezed into its tightest, the ball of energy was still five times that of a regular hyper beam. Bring up his claws, Dragonite used more than just his breath to launch this colossal attack. There was a huge thunderclap as the great lizard slapped the ball with hands and head, immediately blowing out a huge sonic boom, ripping doors from their frames.

Pikachu blinked at the sudden gust of wind as it blew over his fur, flapping his ears and tail.

"Pi." He said in irritation, poking a tiny finger into his ear to shake out the ringing, Ash's first pokémon didn't even watch as the attack bore down on him.

The brightness of the blast killed all colour down the hall, washing everything into dull shades of gray. The pillars shivered at the force, and a mini-tornado wove around the beam as it burned up the atmosphere in the room. Like the burning lance of an infuriated god, Dragonite's ultimate hyper-beam froze time so all reality could bear witness to the thunderous wrath of the dragons.

Moments before the blast connected, Pikachu flicked up his paw without looking, still working at his ear. A thin white sheet unrolled in front of him, meshed from cobweb strands of light. The sum of Dragonite's efforts was caught on this light screen, which was angled just right to throw the pure train of energy over Pikachu's head, rolling the force through the many floors above and into the air.

As the yellow dragon gaped after his precious beam as it vanished into the sky like Team Rocket, Pikachu shook himself after restoring his hearing to an acceptable level. Button nose twitching at the smell of burned oxygen, Pikachu let his light screen unravel, looking as though he didn't really know what he'd just achieved.

Psychological, Dragonite told himself, panting. It's a psychological trick to scare you. But mind games or no, that tiny little rat had just effortlessly deflected a battle-finishing attack. Staring, Dragonite could see Pikachu showered with light from the freshly drilled sunroof, the rays catching on the drifting particles of plaster and concrete, illuminating them like stars. All at once, the huggable pet was a great titan, around whom a whole galaxy spun – absolute, unmoving and inevitable like judgement.

A small smile parting his furry face, Pikachu announced sweetly: "Piika-chu." – A phrase that in human tongues roughly corresponded to 'my turn'.

Eyes wide, Lance's Dragonite stared as Pikachu's short yellow fur stood on end, his lightning-bolt tail twitching excitedly. The rat still wore a relaxed smile as electricity began to bridge over his chubby body. A distant tumbling – a growl thundering from the distance grew close, and the building shook as though grabbed in the hands of the universe. Pillars dislodged, sending more of the palace crumbling to the ground.

As Pikachu's lightning began to grow in size, lashing out to any metallic object in the ruined hall, Dragonite began to see value in a strategic withdrawal. Forcing a large hind leg into the air, the dragon attempted a step backwards, but stumbled. He was too exhausted from his hyper beam. Looking up at Pikachu, the centre of a huge nuclear reaction, he saw the rat start to glow. This could get ugly.

Something stung Dragonite's toes, and he looked down. Small snake of energy were creeping over the floor. The floor made of marble tiles. Pikachu was electrifying the stone – that wasn't physically possible, was it? Fear finally broke through the dragon's arrogance and rage, hooking into his chest.

Pikachu's smile had taken on some sort of demonic quality, the pokémon growing brighter as he accumulated more energy. Objects of any material were drifting around in a bubble of lightning, strung up by freakish magnetic fields. The voltage impossibly passing through the marble grew stronger and hungrier, slowly electrocuting Dragonite where he stood.

Things were fast becoming clear to the giant pokémon. He wasn't fighting a pokémon, he was fighting the vast limitless power of the sun. This wasn't a monster, this wasn't even an evil. This was the Devil himself.

Straining his aching wings, Dragonite tried to carry himself into the air, hoping to fly free of this place. Pikachu noticed, and with a flick of his wrist, said:

"Pi!"

A vast reservoir of energy broke from within the small rat, a sea of electricity rushing forth and exploding all the junk drifting in the air. Dragonite was knocked to the ground. The lightning snaking around Pikachu suddenly coiled, knitting into a ball in front of the rat's outstretched palm.

Fishing up his long neck, Dragonite stared with naked fear, recognising the attack. This wasn't thunder, or zap cannon – this was a thunder shock. Just a mere thunder shock.

A cruel glint sparking over Pikachu's eye, the rat bumped the ball of thunder forward. Rocketing with meteoric speed, the ball gave Dragonite hardly a moment to defensively raise an arm. The dragon saw yellow, and was erased from the world.

-- --

Laughing in animalistic joy, Charizard dragged Dragonite's head across the walls of the palace, tearing a long trench. The yellow dragon moaned in pain, but lashed out wildly with his thick tail, wrapping it around the red dragon's neck and pulling the red lizard off him. Now free, Dragonite slammed Charizard through the floor, pursuing through the hailing wreckage.

Head-butting the falling Charizard in the stomach did little to phase the fire dragon, despite being hit with enough force to push him through another floor. Clasping his opponent, Ash's most violent pokémon twisted and tossed Dragonite into the next floor with seismic force, then drove his heavy legs into the yellow dragon's abdomen, slamming him deep underground.

They fell, as though passing from earth down into hell, into the vast black dungeons that Charizard called his home. Throwing Dragonite down one of the pits, the war-mad dragon roared in laughter.

"Hoooo!" Dragonite spat back, turning his fall into a flight, stretching his wings. Charizard was soon upon him, though, and the two engaged in a vicious dogfight. The fiery pokémon forced the pure dragon further down, away from the redemption of light.

As the battle grew increasingly brutal, Charizard's body temperature sky-rocketed. Indeed, in these lightless voids, the only light was from the ever-burning flame on Charizard's tail, casting an orange glow over the stone walls as they plummeted ever deeper.

Dragonite was a reptile, and heat generally spurred him to action, but even he had limits. Not liking the way the atmosphere was growing ever-hotter, he decided to go for a killshot. Gathering an inner coldness, Dragonite unleashed his secret weapon – a crackling ice beam. Firing at the flame on Charizard's tail, he caught his brutal foe off guard, icing up the end of the appendage.

Coiling away in victory, Dragonite howled. He'd done it! He'd killed the beast – Everyone knew that when a Charizard's tail was doused, death was instant. Now to help his brother-in-arms.

Suffice to say, he was surprised when the supposedly dead dragon roared ferociously. Dragonite stared in dull amazement as Charizard blew a fountain of fire into the air, and in a wave of sudden heat, shattered the icy stump with a sudden flare of his tail.

Before he could wonder at how the pokémon survived, Dragonite was slashed across the face. His blood splattered across the walls, instantly sizzling then flaking off. This small event reflected over Dragonite's glassy eyes – just how hot was it getting down here?

"CHAARRR..." Erupted from Charizard's mouth as he wrapped his clawed hands around the other lizard's large neck. Dragonite cried out as he felt the red hands burn his scales and flesh – Charizard was as hot as steel fresh from the forge.

Charizard's battle roar somehow turned into fire, bathing Dragonite in ever-increasing heat. Fire spouted from his eyeballs and from deep within his ears as Charizard's inner heat spilled over – the two tumbling into the bottomless depths, burning wreckage collapsing from heaven. Dragonite's scream was lost in the sound of feasting flames as wounds opened all over Charizard's body, tongues of fire licking out and instantly burning the openings shut again.

All was fire and at some point, Charizard wasn't sure when, even Dragonite's ashes were burned to nothing, leaving the red dragon to fall, his sudden flames dying. The light went with them, and the tumbling dragon was eaten up by the darkness.

-- --

Warding away Sabrina's relentless strikes desperately, Will found himself slowly overwhelmed. Constantly retreating into the white light of teleportation, he would no sooner appear as have to lift his sword in defence. It didn't matter how good he was at cheating physics, Sabrina's constant pressing would keep him on the back foot, and then he'd inevitably lose – Surge had taught him that much.

It seems things have come to last resorts, Will reflected, parrying Sabrina's hand-blades with his broad sword in one hand and blasting her away with a psionic pulse with the other. He frowned. I had hoped to have this progress smoother.

Sabrina was in his face again, maintaining a blaring mental assault along with her physical blows. Will stood his ground and tossed forward his sword. The purple psychic blade burst into a thousand pellets of energy like a shotgun shell, and Sabrina instantly threw up her hands to defend.

As she did so, Will snatched her up with psychic energy and tossed her. She barrelled towards her Alakazam, still shielding her from his circling Unown, but she stopped herself just short. The Forbidden Child looked up, surprised that Fair-Tongue would think that would work.

"What did you-"

But Will had gathered all the time he needed. Thrusting out his hands, he directed all the orbiting Unown to attack simultaneously.

A mountain of psychic pressure was dumped on Sabrina and her Alakazam, who threw up a combined reflect field only moments fast enough. Knees buckling, the two of them struggled under the strength of the attack, desperately feeding all their power into the field.

Will joined with his pokémon in applying as much pressure as possible. This was a risky gambit – if the Resistance psychic somehow escaped this, or had the pressure relent for even a moment, she could teleport out and find Thought-Poet completely open. Clenching his teeth, Will leaned forward and focussed harder, his glasses slipping down his nose.

Outside the blue walls webbing the Unown together, Karen and Agatha watched in open rapture. Karen ran her hands lustfully over her dress while the Witch bobbed her talismans in the tension.

"So sad!" The Monster uttered huskily, her fingers tracing below her breasts. "They are both struggling so hard!"

In response, Agatha grinned, revealing her purple gums.

"Gah!"

Sabrina's knee betrayed her, falling to the cratered floor. Alakazam was fading fast too, his legs shaking like a twanged elastic band. Will saw victory within sight, and poured on the power, his scarf whipping wildly in the invisible psychic currents.

"No..." Sabrina growled through clenched teeth, her neat hair curling and twisting like the mane of medusa. Resisting as fiercely as she could, her carefully carved stoic demeanour, developed over years of emotional distance, begun to peel from her face. Lines formed, teeth showed, and expression leaked through – the countenance of despair.

Then something broke. Her straight-cut hair split, slashing around in the air as though caught in crashing surf. Hidden depths of power burst from the base of Sabrina's soul like a volcano, from a place she didn't know existed. Psychic force exploded from her body, blue clouds rising and lifting the combined press of the Unown upon her. Alakazam was terrified, ignorant of what was happening. Against the assaulting weight, she stood up.

Will was stunned, but didn't let up his attack. Everything was banked in this final blow – it had to work. Squeezing the air hard, Argonaut pulled every dreg of strength from his mind to throw at the Rebel.

"No!" He cried. "Stay down!"

It was to no avail. Sabrina's new found power blossomed from her flesh, overcoming the League's power. With an uncharacteristic scream, she lashed the space in front of her, dispersing the Unown's power and releasing her. The backlash struck Will in the chest, sending him flying.

Her eyes possessed of a purple energy, Sabrina looked around at the spinning pokémon, inscrutable in their cycloptic features but stunned at her amazing turn around. Snarling, she reached out and clenched at the air, blue fire burning her clothes.

As though a great wrench had been thrown into a machine, the gears of the spinning Unown were clogged up. Flexing unheard of psychic might, she halted their constant turn, though they struggled to follow the patterns that gave them power. Then, in a move akin to turning the stars back in the sky, she pulled the extra-dimensional pokémon back into paths contrary to the one's their enigmatic minds demanded.

"What?" Will cried, watching as the blue mental walls broke down and his legion of Unown pokémon fluttered blindly, lost without their pack-mind. As his cage fell apart like the Indigo Palace around them, the League Psychic pushed himself to his feet. "No, I won't let this happen!"

Summoning up as powerful a psybeam as he could, Thought-Poet launched the multi-faceted attack, but it splashed harmlessly against Sabrina's invincible might. Natural light restored, she scattered Will's pokémon with a growl, standing as the winner of the field.

Then darkness formed around her feet, and out of the shadows leapt black Houndooms, digging their deadly jaws into her flesh. Sabrina screamed in pain, and Alakazam moved to help, but he too was pounced upon by shadow-hounds, his armoured body cracking under their teeth. As Sabrina was dragged to the ground, Karen herself leapt from the darkness, biting into the psychic's neck.

Will staggered to his feet, cradling his ribs. He saw his opponent screaming and kicking futilely, torn apart by the wolves, but was oblivious to Karen's interference, blocking it from his own mind.

"I did it!" He shouted as loud as he could without hurting his side. Turning away from the sick feast, he yelled into the sky. "There, I did it! I'm the number one psychic in the world; I'm so great and powerful!" Clenched his gloved fist he shook it in pain. "I'm the perfect killer – was that really so worth it Janine?"

As he cried from deep in his heart, Karen and her hounds enjoyed their meal, and Agatha watched on greedily, licking her fingers at the thought of blood.

-- --

Spinning the shaft of his halberd like a windmill, Lance tried more elaborate means of landing a blow on his son. Artfully slamming out with is weapon, he attacked from every angle, but Ash met each attack easily. Rolling to the floor, the Crest-Holder tried to sweep his opponent's feet, but Ash bounced into the air. Teeth showing, Lance lashed out with his other foot.

Ash twisted mid-air, avoiding the boot, but leaving himself open to a whack from his father's polearm. Catching the neck of the weapon, Ash was forced towards the wall. Bracing himself with his feet, he was pinned.

Moving fast, Lance jumped onto the opposite wall, similarly setting his feet onto its face, so that the only thing keeping the pair suspended as the pressure he was putting on his weapon. His enraged look turned to a smile as he recognised that the Champion was stuck.

"Got you." He said, raising his Steyr AUG. Unintimidated, Ash let go of the spear-head, allowing the blade to pass just short of his side into the wall behind him. The shock disrupted Lance's aim, and Ash tore his cape free and swung around the impromptu gymnastics bar, landing on his feet.

As he fell, Lance swept up his weapon for a shattering overhead blow, but Ash, barely looking, pointed his M-16 and fired a single shot. The bullet chiselled the dragon-shaped head of the weapon, knocking the halberd from Lance's hands and sending it clattered to the tiles behind him.

"Damn!" Lance let slip, gripping his Steyr AUG. He could try a quick draw with the Great Kanto Trainer, but considering how things had gone so far, that would probably end badly. He needed to talk his son, let his overconfidence combine with distraction and create a weakness. The moment one appeared Lance would skewer his child through.

Backing slowly towards his stolen weapon, Lance met Ash's eyes, which were clouded with emotions. This made Lance sneer more. "So," he said, surprising his son. "Was it base spite for your absentee father that drove you to destroy all my hard work and murder the world's happiness?"

Ash's dark eyebrows lowered dangerously. "This isn't about you and me. What you were killing behind the scenes to build was an illusion."

This got under Lance's skin. "An illusion?!" He roared, spittle flying. Fury temporarily forgot about his lost pole arm. "There was peace! The madness of the Old World was vanquished!" He pointed accusingly. "The world was better off without Winona-style heathens, that's for sure!"

Ash matched Lance's pointing finger with the tip of his sword, and it was like the blade cut through the Dragon Master's emotional defences.

"You brainwashed people into smiles and food on the table and lovey-dovey sentiment – it was all false. Your New World was empty – people carried their secret hurts and questions, never finding any relief." Ash's voice was rising, the years of emotional abuse from his father rising up uncontrollably. "People were always wondering what their lives were for, if there was something more." A strong look was set behind his moistening eyes. "That is what my League is for."

"So you're just like me." The words flew along Lance's tongue without his brain interceding, and both parties flinched physically at their sound.

"I am NOT!" Ash shouted reflexively, slashing wildly. His father sprung back with blinding speed, but still only just barely avoided losing his nose. Back flipping, the Dragon Master snatched up his halberd, just in time to parry the Champion's follow-up strike. "I am not like you!" The Chosen One repeated, his face close up to his father's.

Lance kicked at his son's shins, and as the boy backed up, he tried to come in with his rifle, but Ash brutally bashed it out of the way with his own. He clearly still wanted to talk.

"For so long I wanted to be the very best so I could beat you." Ash said, anger in his tone. His hair was a worse mess than ever. "But then I saw what the League was, what Kanto was, and I captured it. Now I've trained it to be better than you ever made it." Smiling hatefully, Ash cocked his head and attempting to smooth his wild hair. "I've beaten you in so many ways."

This last statement caused Lance's muscles to freeze up in terror and fury. Lurching forward, the Dragon Master jabbed with his halberd. "Is that right?" He yelled irrationally as Ash bounced efficiently out of the way. "Well, if you're so much better than me, then how come you are doing exactly what I did, huh?" Spitting on the floor at his son's feet, he went on. "You're just making another new world, like I did!"

Staring at the splash of saliva that had fallen just short of his boots, Ash found so many emotions at play that it felt like he was experiencing nothing. Looking up at his father, the bastard who had walked out on him and his mother on a self-righteous quest to build a charade of tranquillity, he somehow found that he was beyond the hatred. He couldn't work up the loathing to try and torture him with words. The Champion could only say what he truly thought.

"No." He said, with a quivering calm. "I'm done with all that – the champions of the old world always end up the dragons of the new one." Looking around the decimated revelry of the Indigo Palace as though in a strange place, he went on. "We're going to find a different world – we, everyone; we're going to work together to thrust me up into the night sky." He joined eyes with his father again. "And once I'm up there, I've got to be strong enough to pull everyone else up."

Lance's mind was only hatred and fear, which bred ignorance. Shaking his head, the dismantling Ex-Champion scoffed. "What the hell are you talking about?" He said, ignoring the contents of his son's ramblings. "You're just making up some dream and forcing it on everyone else."

Calmly, with almost machine precision, Ash spun broadly, unrolling with his katana. Lance was stunned at the Chosen One's speed, almost unable to get his halberd into defence fast enough. The blade sunk almost half-way through the hardened wood.

Flicking the base of his polearm up, he hoped to deliver a bone-squishing hit into Ash's jaw. To the elite trainer's surprise, he hit only black cape, as the Great Kanto Trainer was already coiling around the side. Jamming down with the butt of his gun, Lance hoped to crack his son's skull, but again he hit nothing, only to have Ash grab the rifle and twist it from his hands.

"In your day, Dad, the League was Conformity." Ash said, tossing the triangular gun away and continuing around behind Legend-Stalker.

Growling savagely, Lance turned – ready to pierce Ash with his dragon-headed weapon. Seeing his target, he speared forward. The Chosen One slipped to the side like a mist, and grabbed the weapon with one hand and his father's military uniform with the other.

"But now," Ash went on, using his father's forward force to flip him over his head. "The League is Hope!"

As the Dragon Master arched overhead, Ash pulled up his M-16 and set it on his stomach. Pulling the trigger, he tore a hole through the flying man's torso, spraying his face with his father's blood.

The body tumbled onto the ground and rolled crudely over the shredded debris. Ash stared blankly at his father's remains for a moment. There he was, the once mighty man who his mother adored – who he adored, was nothing more than mangled flesh on a battlefield. Even knowing everything the Dragon Master had done to his own family, it was still strange.

Feeling a little groggy, Ash turned to leave and find Pikachu.

A hiss caught his attention, and Ash turned back to watch in shock as his father pushed his shivering form off the ground. His uniform was growing red, and he was covered in cuts from the fall, but pride kept Lance moving. Ash gaped as his father struggled up onto his feet, a hand clenching his wound closed.

"Do your old man a favour." The Dragon Master said without humour. Even as his body was breaking down around them, Lance's eyes were still stark and powerful. "Make it a good death."

Unsure precisely why he was accommodating this man who had never even given him an affectionate look, Ash brought his black katana to eye-level. Lance couldn't even to manage a smile for his son for granting his dying request. The movement was so fast that Lance didn't even realise his head had been cut off until he saw his decapitated body pass underneath his eyes.

Watching as both parts of his father finally struck the floor, Ash tarried a moment as if expecting the body to mystically reanimate and haunt him. But nothing of the sort happened, and Ash turned to leave so he could cry in peace.

-- --

Continued next chapter (yes, 4 parts!)