My beta (InfernalFox) gave me the green light (that means, there aren't any blatant grammar errors anymore), so here is the very belated chapter you've been waiting for!
Once again, you may want to re-read a few chapters to gain an understanding of "what's going on" because to be honest, even I forgot some of the nuances of my own plot.
And that's like, borderline crippling depression. In other words, it's pretty sad.
I've been busy with school - I need to get into college, sorry about that - so I'll skip the reviews, 'cause when you have like, twenty essays due on Wednesday (I'm not exaggerating), you tend to have priorities.
Hah! My chapter is now so much shorter! The word count is like, 50% less than usual!
I'll have a long chapter in the summer. Promise.
Don't worry. If you review this chapter, I'll be sure to PM you with a response because I don't like one-sided conversations. They remind me of car rides and my text messages.
Jokes aside, thank you for sticking with me over the years, even though Ash and his crew are totally out-of-character (but to be honest, I can't stand the stories where he's actually in-character sometimes. He has personality shifts between regions, but Unova, Alola and even Kanto Ash at times...yeah). The amount of support really boosts my ego and makes me want to write more in terms of both quality and quantity. Fanfiction is sometimes looked down upon as a community of sub-intellectuals, but we idiots don't care, do we?
Anyway, I should stop stalling and start the chapter already. It's going to be a while until the next one, though (tests are the best), so...
Here it goes!
The forest was silent that night, save for the crackling of the tongues of fire that slowly swallowed all traces of foliage. If one were to listen carefully, they wouldn't even be able to hear the feet that trod gingerly through the grass.
Although stars lit the night sky, it was the warm glow of ravenous flames that illuminated Pikachu's path. The trees cast eerie shadows on the dirt path he followed as he meandered slowly between light and dark.
And then he halted.
A red-bricked building no larger than his Trainer's own home towered above the Electric-Type, tacitly mocking—no, taunting the young Pokemon.
I got your Trainer, it seemed to say.
Pikachu sat down, staring at the pattern of dull red over white. His unfocused gaze seemed to gloss over the small crack in the wall, the smoky chimney that stuck out…even the slant of roof shingles superimposed upon each other.
With a small smile, the electric rodent turned around and walked away.
Goodra blinked in surprise, yawning widely and stretching his arms to each side as he rose to his full height. He blinked his eyes rapidly, attempting to exterminate the lingering effects of weariness from his previously inert body. The sun blinded his sight, making the figure of his nap-stealer blurry.
"Talonflame?" he asked.
"That's me!" his old teammate chirped, standing at the entrance to the cave. Her right wing was held up in an energetic wave, but the Dragon Pokemon couldn't help but notice the tired expression in his friend's eyes: the angled droop of her head, the way she shifted her feet awkwardly, the periodic ruffling of her feathers.
"Are you okay?" Goodra asked, walking slowly toward his Kalosian teammate. "You look like you're about to pass out."
"No," the Scorching Pokemon replied bluntly, "but thanks for asking. Ash has been kidnapped. We need your Rain Dance to locate him. And save his hometown by doing that."
"You came all the way from Kanto just to ask me?" the Dragon-Type asked, gesturing at himself in genuine surprise. "Quite the extensive plan."
"There's a fire, but Kantonian Pokemon have no regard for moves that don't do damage," Talonflame replied. "Our Trainer, thankfully, got past that stage, but…" she trailed off, leading her silence to interpretation.
"I understand," Goodra replied, opening his arms and squeezing his teammate into a slimy hug. "How are we going to get back?"
Talonflame tried not to look—or feel—too uncomfortable. "Uh, I brought your Pokeball. Hope you don't mind. We can use the transport system to get back to Johto, where we have a few escorts to help us."
"Oh, I see. Lead the way!"
Buizel stroked his forehead repeatedly, attempting to rid himself of the unpleasant sweat that clung to his fur reminding him of how Buneary used to cling to Pikachu.
But all jokes and gossip aside, the situation was less than ideal and didn't seem to be fixing itself anytime soon.
Fire was still prevalent on the streets. Whatever incendiary those Grunts used earlier was definitely long-lasting and effective. It had been discovered earlier that in certain parts of the town, the flames would scatter when Water-Type moves were used against them. Before word was spread around for everyone not to use Hydro Pump and Aqua Jet against the source of Buizel's growing headache, the Sea Weasel Pokemon could honestly say that their impromptu band of voluntary firefighters did more harm than good.
Imagine their surprise when the Water-Type instructed his band of merry 'mons to use Bubble on the flames. Most of them had forgotten the move years ago.
And since the surrounding forest caught on fire, the evacuation had become a game of time. Most of Ash's Mt. Silver team had come back to facilitate, but even their efforts didn't stop houses from collapsing on themselves.
Surprisingly, Ash's mother's house had been one of the only unaffected buildings in the town. Garchomp had arrived in time to use Sandstorm to stifle out any approaching flames. Delia had been both grateful and delightfully impressed because Mr. Mime's barriers were starting to wear down in the presence of the heatwave of destruction around them.
Which was a relief, because Bulbasaur's sanity was on the verge of spontaneous combustion.
The Grass and Poison-Type had, obviously, become the self-appointed leader, but that didn't stop stress from radiating off his teammate in contagious gamma rays that instantly sucked all motivation out of anyone nearby.
Which may or may not have been the reason Buizel was feeling so pessimistic.
If only Ash was around…
Anyway.
There was a foreboding sense in the air, but as Quilava took his arm, dragging him down the muddy streets toward the nearest burning building, Buizel promptly forgot about his earlier concerns.
Infernape kindly reminded his partner that, yes, although there were many monkey-shaped Pokemon that belonged in trees, the Fire and Fighting-Type would much rather keep his burning head away from flammable objects—thank you very much—even when sneakily trailing a suspicious-looking black truck with a prominent red R on both sides.
Torterra shrugged, chuckling as the two made their way up another tree and bush-clad hill. The truck had come to a stop a little ahead of them (the Continent Pokemon caught a glimpse at what seemed to be a sandwich snack break), so he had suggested that they take the time to slowly catch up.
Eventually, even Infernape agreed that a rest stop was beneficial. It had taken the group hours to run down the slope of Mt. Silver (to be honest, it felt more like falling), and it wasn't like the Sinnoh Starters had the chance to sit down in the past day or so.
The Flame Pokemon had started to feel like Ash. At times, he didn't know how such a scrawny-looking presumably ten-year-old ("I don't know how you guys still believe I'm ten," his Trainer would mutter loud enough for everyone in the vicinity to hear) could travel so far in a single day without passing out.
His friend had a contemplative yet nostalgic look on his face. Infernape knew what the Grass and Ground-Type was thinking.
'If I save Ash, will he think I'm strong again?'
As much as Ash liked to believe that he didn't play favorites, it was obvious that the Trainer had a special bond with his more experienced Pokemon. Infernape was lucky to be a part of that circle (even though he had been constantly overshadowed by Charizard—which was perfectly okay), but Torterra had lost all his confidence once he'd first evolved and never fully recovered, which included his confidence around his precious Trainer.
As the truck started moving again, Infernape considered sending his teammate back to Oak's Corral as a safety precaution but reconsidered.
Smiling reassuringly at the Grass-Type, the Flame Pokemon beckoned his friend to follow, using his fire to light up the night sky like a lantern for the two travelers.
"Did you find him?" Charizard asked, hovering over the tops of trees with a leisurely flap of his reptilian wings. Smoke billowed in his face, stinging his eyes.
"I could definitely use my nose if it wasn't for that overbearing smell of smoke," Sceptile wheezed. "It's messing with my senses. And my thinking."
The Fire and Flying-Type laughed, barrel rolling in the air and letting himself glide circles around his teammate. "You sound like Ash when he complains about Unova. It wasn't really that bad, y'know. Just got a bit dizzy for days at a time: y'know, that feeling when you know your brain's not working but there's literally nothing you can do abou—"
"Forget about me; you sound like Ash," the Forest Pokemon grumbled.
Greninja remained silent, scanning the horizon with his eyes in an attempt to find his Trainer. Smoke fumes from the city made it harder for the bipedal frog to see anything.
A rustling sound caught the Water-Type's attention, and he whirled around, catching a glimpse of yellow among dead leaves and other forms of once-lush vendure that surrounded the group.
"Pikachu?" he asked.
"Oi, Rodent!" Charizard exclaimed, catching sight of his teammate, "where in Kanto did you run off to?"
"Don't try to escape," Sceptile added on with an all-knowing smirk. "You're thinking of using Substitute to distract us while you Dig away, aren't you?"
A small chuckle from Greninja's left surprised him. The Mouse Pokemon leaped out of a browning bush, landing next to the Water-Type and saluting militaristically.
"Nice seeing you guys," the Electric-Type replied, grinning mischievously.
Sceptile turned around to face his teammate, crossing his arms and tilting his head down toward the Mouse Pokemon. "You didn't actually find Gary, did you." The inflection in the Grass-Type's tone made his accusation sound more like a statement than a question.
"Nope."
"Then what were you doing?" Charizard asked.
"I've been trying to disable the prison he's being held in," Pikachu answered, cavalier to the obvious annoyance directed at him by the Grass-Type in front of him. "Found him a few minutes ago but the fire was getting close and I had to be creative about that."
"So you're at least trying to keep him safe," Sceptile remarked. "Why didn't you set him free yet?"
"'Cause he'll run off to save everyone, of course!" Pikachu exclaimed, waving his arms exasperatedly to emphasize his point. "He's an idiot, remember?!"
"Like Trainer, like Pokémon," Sceptile muttered under his breath, much to Greninja's amusement. The Water-Type began to take controlled breaths, hoping that his teammates didn't notice his occasional bouts of silent laughter.
"Plus," the Mouse Pokémon huffed, "there's an alarm system that I haven't finished dismantling."
"Fair enough," Charizard remarked, bringing his clawed hands to his hips. "Why don't you let us help?"
Gary, Clemont, and Clemont's adorable little sister (the Viridian Gym Leader decided that it was best not to get on her bad side) sat on a once-vacant bench in the stadium, waiting for the pandemonium outside to settle down. Rocket Grunts patrolled the halls—there was always at least one person clad in black glaring at the trio as they huddled behind Clemont's laptop, watching as lights flashed and programming was typed out with nimble fingers. The Kalosian Gym Leader didn't let his eyes leave the screen while he muttered bits of code under his breath. Gary thought it was impressive.
"Hurry up, big brother!" Bonnie spoke up softly, nudging the teen's arm with her elbow. "Ash isn't going to wait forever, you know!"
"Bonnie, be patient! I'm at work here!" Clemont scolded his sister. Next to him, Gary tried to call his gramps using his PokeGear, scowling a little when he was met with voicemail.
"Your eyebrows get all scrunchy when you're frustrated," Bonnie remarked.
The researcher sighed, feeling the weight of defeat rest on his shoulders. "Thanks."
Clemont, on the other hand, didn't respond.
"Whatcha doing anyway?" Gary asked, leaning over to see the screen, where lines of numbers, letters, and symbols flocked together to create lines of incoherent messages.
Clemont ran his fingers through his hair absentmindedly, sighing as the words on the screen started to flash a dark red. With a sigh, the Lumiose City Gym Leader started a new line of code. "I'm programming a simulation. Taking into account the Trainers in the stadium and their Pokemons' estimated levels, we can predict if we can be victorious against Team Rocket."
"Don't forget to include Lance's stash of Full Restores," the other Gym Leader remarked, raising a finger.
"I hope you're joking."
"I don't know whether I should wish I was."
"Hush!" Bonnie reprimanded the two teens, her eyes following the path of another Grunt.
"Will the medicine really significantly affect the situation, though?"
"Believe me, it will. Rumor has it that he usually keeps five Full Restores per Pokémon for various potential battles he gets into."
"On hand?" Bonnie asked. "That's a lot."
The bench beneath the three Trainers creaked as Clemont suddenly leaned forward in his seat, typing furiously. A maniacal grin spread slowly over his face as the lowest line of symbols flashed green. "This...might just work!"
"Hello! You're Goodra, right?" the Butterfree asked. "It's nice to meet you."
Next to him, another Bug and Flying-Type with a pink plumage waved shyly. It was obvious that they'd never seen—nevertheless met a Dragon-Type like the one standing in front of them.
In the water, a sleek, blue dinosaur-like Pokémon with a rounded shell waited for them, treading water lazily. "What took you so long?" Lapras asked, greeting the newcomer with a friendly smile and a finned wave.
"Professor Sycamore was quite confused when we broke into his lab in the middle of the day," Talonflame explained. "Had to convince Mega Garchomp that we didn't mean any harm and everything. Luckily, he recognized us."
"Sounds eventful," Lapras remarked before gesturing to her back. "Now hop on! Let's not keep your Trainer waiting much longer."
Gary walked carefully to the bold white demarcation that marked the center of the dirt field. Next to him, Lance the Dragon Master strolled proudly, letting his ornate cape billow behind him.
"You sure you want to do this?" the Gym Leader asked, fingering his broken pendant between his thumb and pointer finger nervously.
The Elite Four Member nodded slightly, staring blankly at the people in the crowd.
"I am."
He tossed an Ultra Ball into the air, smiling softly at the Dragonite that appeared in a flash of white light.
"To the faithful citizens of Kanto and our wonderful guests from other regions," Lance addressed the crowd, raising his voice to a roar and spreading his arms out. In front of him, Dragonite roared for effect.
"I sincerely apologize for recent events and assure you that our new Champion is not one to take likely. So let's all," he paused, turning around to address everyone, "have faith in him."
Gary watched as, Trainers, Coordinators, children, Pokemon, and even Team Rocket Grunts turned to watch the man in silence. The Gym Leader realized that he had become enthralled in his powerful words and sheer conviction.
"But I plead you my last request as the Champion of Kanto: to unite with me in a battle against the darkness of this world. Together, we will end Team Rocket!"
The Viridian City Gym Leader couldn't help but join in the sudden cheering in the stadium. As Lance released his full team, Gary did the same, watching as Umbreon, Aerodactyl, Arcanine, and Blastoise materialized in front of him, each bearing similar looks of confidence.
"Charge!" Lance roared, raising a fist into the air. His dragons called in response, taking flight into the air.
A woman to the teen's left chuckled as she took a battle stance alongside her Pidgey, Tangela, Parasect, and Butterfree. "Kanto is certainly special," she remarked. "In no other region would something like this happen: our Champion is in trouble and we're going to help him!"
Behind her, a man in a business suit stood behind his Poliwhirl, Kingler, Spearow, and Koffing, facing a Rocket Grunt with a determined look on his face. "Our Champion is Kanto's representative!" he shouted. "We won't let you take him!"
A youngster and his two Rattata grinned from ear to ear as he ordered his two companions to use Bite. "Our Champion is strong, and so are we!"
In just a mere minute, the heart of a Trainer burned brightly as an explosion of patriotism propelled his fellow citizens to protect their land.
Goodra steadied himself, glaring at the burning buildings with steely resolve. The sight of rows of houses on fire reminded him too much of his own experience as a Goomy, watching his home crumble in perilous flames.
In front of him, Bulbasaur smiled wearily. "It's nice to meet you," the Grass and Poison-Type spoke up, "even if it would have been better under different circumstances."
"Do I know you?" Butterfree asked, landing on the Dragon-Type's slimy head.
Bulbasaur was too busy walking away with his head down to reply.
"He seems a little familiar," the Bug and Flying-Type explained, moving a paw to his mouth in contemplation. "I can't place it, but I think I've met him before…"
"Maybe he has one of those faces, honey," his mate reasoned.
"Yeah. Maybe."
Goodra closed his eyes, gathering energy inside him. It had been a while since he last used the move, but the familiar pull in his gut and the life energy he gathered felt as powerful as ever.
A drop of wet liquid landed on his cheek. Smiling softly, the dragon lifted his chin and directed his power toward the sky. The sky darkened, lightning flashed dangerously, and it began to rain.
A deluge of water poured from the sky, dousing everyone in sight. The heavens rumbled in the form of thunder. Pidgey swarmed the air, using Sand Attack in large waves until mud covered the face of the concrete roads and brick-clad buildings that once constituted Pallet Town. People and Pokemon of all Types became drenched in the cold, refreshing shower that snuffed out the last of the flames and caused a small flood.
Goodra, soaked in mud, began to laugh. Next to him, Dewott whooped with joy, dancing shamelessly as he splashed in puddles (to the amusement of Servine).
Meganium emerged from a building, smiling brightly. The Grass-Type closed her eyes, making her surroundings glow a peaceful green. Colonies of moss and grass emerged from the ground.
"So?" Talonflame asked, hovering in the air. "Did you find him?"
"Now that you mention it, I do sense something weird," the Dragon Pokemon replied.
"What is it?"
"There's an unnatural chemical composition in the air a bit west from here," Goodra explained, raising his ears in the air, "even though there aren't supposed to be functioning buildings anywhere near here. The electricity is off, right?"
"Yep. The power lines have been cut down."
"Feels like a standard zinc-carbon galvanic cell."
"Huh?"
"Nothing."
Butterfree, seeing the contemplative look on his new friend's face, pointed toward the west. "Let's go find your Trainer."
Ash didn't realize he had dozed off until a loud cracking sound jolted him awake, flinging his head backward in an attempt to take in his surroundings and banging it against the curved, glass wall. His hands reflexively shot up to massage the injured spot, making the Trainer lose his balance and slump against his prison yet again with a groan.
He had expected the machine above his head—the one that had refused to stop beeping for the inestimable amount of time he'd been stuck in the tube—to have done something by now, but the gray box of flashing lights and weird liquids connected to it remained stationary.
By now, the smoke Ash smelled had stopped being labeled as a figment of his imagination by his mind and had become a probable threat. He had no idea if Bulbasaur and Noctowl had managed to stop the fire from spreading, although it seemed like something significant had happened, judging from the consistent sound of Pidgey pecking at the roof (in other words, rain). The heavy downpour caused the air inside the cylindrical tube to be humid and stuffy, reminding the Trainer of the lack of air present.
He hadn't really stopped to think about it yet: that he'd somehow won against his home region's prestigious Elite Four and become the new Champion of Kanto.
Ash was half sure that he'd decided to take the challenge on a whim. Only shows that if you put effort into something, the results can be anything.
He looked around, repetitively punching weakly at the glass wall. Yeah, the results can be anything. (Which happens to include being kidnapped by an international criminal organization and having your hometown burned to the ground.)
There was a knocking sound coming from Ash's left. The Trainer braced himself, struggling to his knees and positioning himself in a battle-ready stance. He raised his arms, and—
A purple insect with white and black wings fluttered in.
"Butterfree?" Ash asked cautiously, his voice hoarse. "Is t-that you?"
The Butterfly Pokemon froze in his tracks and stared bug-eyed at the teen.
"ASH?!"
"You know him?!" Talonflame screeched, landing beside her new friend in something like awed wonder.
Butterfree turned to the Fire and Flying-Type. "I…" he trailed off, "I even met Bulbasaur without recognizing him! And we were at Pallet Town, too—how could I forget?!"
The Scorching Pokemon looked like she was going to faint as she faced the confused look of her Trainer. "He was your Pokemon?! You were once incompetent?! How?!"
"Uh, I can't understand you, Talonflame—and no, it's not a joke this time—but Butterfree was the first Pokemon I caught. Now, can you two help—"
"It's very nice to meet one of Ash's original team members!" the Fire and Flying-Type suddenly exclaimed, shaking Butterfree's paws with her wings excitedly. "The first Pokemon of Kanto's newest Champion—wow, I don't know how you're not a celebrity!"
"A-Ash is the Champion of Kanto?! There must be a mistake! How did that happen?!"
Pikachu ran into the room, skidding to a halt at the door. "Out, everyone! There's still a defense mechanism in place!"
It was too late, it seemed, because a bright pink cloud of smoke had permeated throughout the clear container from the machine above his head. The Electric-Type huffed as his Trainer immediately covered his mouth and nose in a last-minute attempt not to breathe in the substance but quickly gave a pained shout and fell to the ground in a noiseless slumber.
Pikachu turned around. "Charizard!" he shouted, "Sceptile! Greninja! He's down!"
The other Fire and Flying Pokemon appeared in the doorway, peeking into the room. "Wha…oh. This is bad."
"Is it the Type Glass you were telling me about?" his Hoenn-native companion asked, pushing the giant lizard through the door frame so the Grass-Type could enter. Charizard stumbled, muttering a string of incoherent words to himself before making way for his teammate to pass through the narrow corridor.
"Yeah," he affirmed, bearing a slightly annoyed look. "We need to hit it with a consistent stream of attacks at a single spot, but we have to make sure that the moves are effective against the Type."
Pikachu gingerly walked up to his Trainer and poked at the cylindrical container with his tail. "It's probably Ghost-Type," the Electric-Type surmised, "given that Ash's Aura is Fighting-Type and how Humans are generally associated with the Normal Typing."
Greninja appeared in the middle of the room silently, crossing his arms and scaring Butterfree halfway to death. "So this is what's blocking the connection," he spoke up. "I'll keep that in mind for further reference. We're close enough now for it to work now, though." He turned around to address the other Pokemon in the room, letting his stoic gaze fall on everyone else present in the room. "The guy says he's fine, even though he's not, but that doesn't really matter because I'm suddenly feeling very tired. Goodnight."
The Water and Dark-Type promptly propped himself against the corner of the room and fell asleep.
"Greninja!" Talonflame exclaimed in worry, flying to her teammate.
Pikachu closed his eyes in a futile attempt to rid himself of the sudden dizziness he was experiencing. "Charizard, Talonflame, use Flamethrower," he instructed, pointing a small finger toward where he presumed the glass to be. "Sceptile, Leaf Storm. Don't forget to keep the distribution even."
The Electric-Type opened his eyes, blinking wearily and turning his head to face Butterfree's shocked expression. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" he asked. "A lot has happened."
"A lot has happened," the Butterfly Pokemon repeated, his eyes wide. "Charmander's a Charizard! That's a Sceptile! And I've never seen those other two in my life."
Pikachu chuckled nostalgically as his teammates fired their attacks at the glass demarcation. "We've been places. Seen a lot, did a lot, you know?"
"That's an understatement."
The Electric-Type's smile widened. "If you stay a bit, we can catch up—once this is all over, of course. I'll show you all our new friends and all his hard-earned Gym Badges," he offered.
Butterfree's eyes lit up. "That'd be great, old mate. You won't mind if my mate stays too, would you? She's back at Pallet Town, helping everyone clean up."
"We'll be glad to have her. But first, let's get our lovable idiot out of the predicament he walked himself into."
As Butterfree turned toward the glass once more, a single question lingered in his mind.
"Wait a sec. Ash actually earns his Gym Badges now?!"
Talonflame doubled over in shock, critically offended. "What is that supposed to mean?!"
See you next illusion.